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#which is why i wanted to transmit this sadness/desperation in their gazes???

anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S1 06 | Co-Captain

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2091

Warnings: Mentions drugs, child abuse, swearing (always).

A/N: I’m sorry but this is a filler chapter, an IMPORTANT one. Y/N’s past start coming back, her mom’s story is quite significant, and the mention of his dad. NEXT WEEK WE FINISH SEASON 1! THINGS START GETTING FCKING INTERESTING!

Scott had told us last night what happened to him. Peter and Derek had gone to the changing rooms, searching for him. Peter had shown him what happened to the Hale family. It was a truly sad story. Stiles told him what happened in the hospital, including what I did. But he hadn't told him that while Peter was showing him his past, I was shaking in Stiles's bedroom while he searched what creature I could be.

"What's up?" Stiles stopped the jeep next to Jackson and his car. He was accompanied by Chris Argent, someone who looked like an asshole. He was.

"Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Scott. Your friend, here, was having car trouble. We're just taking a look." He replied with a smile on his face. His blue eyes weren't warm, they were cold, transmitting uneasiness.

"There's a shop right down the street. I'm sure they have a tow truck." Scott pointed down the street. I just silently sat on the back of the jeep, observing Chris.

"Yeah. You want a ride?" Scott opened the door while Chris turned his face to look at Jackson. "Hey, come on, Jackson. You're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself." Jackson started walking towards us, and Scott came out of the car to let him in.

"Hey, boys." He turned the engine of the car on, it was working. "Told you I knew a few things about cars." Then, he went back to his car, driving away.

"What, are you following me, now?" Stiles got out of the car while I decided to stay inside, rolling the window down so I could hear them better.

"Yes, you stupid freaking idiot. You almost gave away everything, right there." Scott started screaming. Seems like his 'anger issues' were still there.

"What are you talking about?"

"He thinks you're the second beta."

"What?"

"He thinks you're me!" Scott grunted, punching Stiles's jeep. Uh oh, he touched his baby.

"Dude, my jeep."

Scott ignored his best friend and continued speaking his mind to Jackson. "I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, literally! Now he thinks that there's something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you too!"

He turned to the jeep again, to hit it. But Stiles stopped him. "Okay, how about we step away from Stiles's Jeep?"

"This is your problem, not mine, okay? I didn't say anything, which means you're the one that's gonna get me killed. Okay, this is your fault." Jackson couldn't control his temper, pushing Scott against the jeep, making it tumble a little. I decided to go out, standing next to the owner of the said jeep.

"Can we stop hitting my jeep?" Scott pushed Jackson away from him. "Yo, all right, yo, guys, stop. All right?"

"When they come after you, I won't be able to protect you." His gaze landed on his best friend. "I can't protect anyone."

"Why are you looking at me?" I put my hand on his back, rubbing it to help him calm down. He had concluded that Scott couldn't protect him if he didn't have the power.

"You know, now you have to do it. Get me what I want, and I will be fine protecting myself."

"No, you won't! Just trust me. All it does is make things worse." His eyes were desperate, but Jackson didn't seem to care. "Yeah, I can run really fast now. Except half the time, I'm running away from people trying to kill me! And I can hear things like - like my girlfriend telling people that she doesn't trust me anymore right before breaking up with me. I'm not lying to you! It ruins your life."

"It ruined your life." He smiled wickedly. "You had all the power in the world, and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned 16, and someone bought you a Porsche when they should have started you out with a nice little Honda. Me? I drive a Porsche." He turned around, determined to go back to his so-loved car.

"You aren't a werewolf." I decided to speak for the first time that day. Jackson stopped on his track. "You are something. I don't know what, but you are something." I choked, it was Stiles's turn to rub my back. I wasn't human anymore, and I hadn't had enough time to sit down and talk about it with someone. "And I am too." I stepped in front of the other two boys. "You were there that night." I simpered. "Do you remember that day at school? You asked me if my wound was hurting, you told me you felt different, that you weren't the same Jackson anymore." He turned around to look at me, jaw clenched. "I told you that all that was because you were a teenager. The changes a teenager goes through, you know?"

"Are you done?" He interrupted. "Don't wanna be here anymore."

"I lied." His attention was back on me again. "I lied, Jackson. I could smell you. And you smelled like the dead." He got into the car, driving away.

Stiles grabbed the milk from the fridge, deciding to take it with himself to his room, until he saw his dad sitting on a table, documents all over it. "Whatcha doing?"

"Work."

"Anything I can help with?"

"You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice." He didn't have to think it twice, grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey.

"Any leads?" Stiles was going to grab a document when his father slapped his hand away. "Wait. Before we get into that topic. Did you know that Melissa was going to bring Y/N?" He bit his lower lip.

Sheriff Stilinski nodded, drinking his alcohol. "An old workmate had that case. The case of Y/N McCall." Stiles waited for his father to go on. "As you know, Scott grew up without his father but seems like that man wasn't in her life neither. She only saw him a couple of times for what I know." He wrote down some information about Derek Hale. "Her mother was a disaster. My friend carried that case. He freed her from jail one time."

"Jail?" Stiles drank milk again.

"Drugs. An entire criminal record related to drugs; driving under the influence, getting into fights while high..." He coughed. "Then," Noah Stilisnki gazed at his son for the first time that night, ignoring the paper works that were on top of the table. "Child abuse." Stiles dropped the bottle, thankfully it was empty. "Y/N went to court with bruises a couple of times, nothing more than that. But still, abuse."

"Didn't they took her away? What are social services for? Didn't they protect her?" His eyebrows furrowed while he glanced at his dad, who was now looking at the documents on the table.

"They called Y/N's father to court, hoping he would take responsibility for his daughter like any father would do." Stiles's mouth was agape. "But he didn't. The judge decided that the environment wasn't the best one for a child. But, still gave an opportunity to her with the condition of going to rehab."

"Did she?" The teen asked, immersed in the story.

"No, she left Y/N on the front door of one of her friends, who was also into drugs in the past. However, that friend was clean."

"She said her mother died."

"She did." Noah stared at his son. "In jail. She died in jail. She...uhm, ended her life." Stiles was shocked. He had to talk to Scott. She wasn't there to make Scott mad, she was there because she had nobody.

"Why did she end up in jail?"

Noah shook his head. "She was on drugs, and...Uhm, she murdered someone. Then, she took her own life in jail."

Stiles could feel his heart beating loudly. He couldn't imagine how she felt.

Someone knocked on the door, and I came out of my room to see Melissa all dressed up. "Hey." She grinned at me, eyes shining with happiness. "You look beautiful." I offered her a grin, she thanked me, looking back at Scott.

"Scott! Get the door. Scott! For the love of God, please! Hey. What are you doing? Aren't you gonna invite him in?" She was like a teenager on her first date. Not surprised if we remember that she once was married to the man who put his dick on the woman that I should call mom.

I walked down the stairs when I heard Scott talking to her mom's date. He must feel strange, but I was curious to know who he was.

"I'm ready, I'm ready. Sorry again." It was Peter. Peter Hale.

"Mom."

"Yes? Sweetheart?" She was grabbing Peter's arm. I could tell she wanted to go out with him, and have a delightful night. But we all knew why Peter Hale was here. It wasn't because he had fallen in love with Melissa, or because he wanted to get to know her better. It was because of Scott and me.

"Have a good time." The door closed in our faces. "Don't say it."

I did anyway. "Are you going to let your mom go on a date with that demented psychopath?"

"Look, he told me that if I said something-" He sighed. "And what do I tell her? That her son is a teen werewolf, and that dude is-" He had difficulties breathing. "And Allison is upstairs-"

"Scott." I interrupted. "Calm down, okay?" I bit my lower lip, trying to think of something. "Give me your phone." He was confused.

"C'mon!" When he handed me his phone, I called the only person who could help me. "Stiles? Hi! Uhm, I need your help."

I explained the situation to Stiles while we followed Melissa and Peter. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I grunted. "I wish I was." I tried to get comfortable in the passenger seat. "Here they are." I glanced at him. "What do we do now?"

"We hit."

"Uh?"

Both of us got out of the car. Melissa's face becoming red when she saw Stiles. "Oh, are you kidding me? Stiles!" Her gaze fell on me next. "Y/N?"

"Mrs. McCall?" Great acting, Stiles. "Wow, this is - this is just crazy. What a coincidence, huh?" He looked at me for a second. "I mean - I do not know what happened. You guys just came out of nowhere."

"Came out of nowhere! We were parked on the side of the road, Stiles."

"How crazy is that? I mean, we should probably call the cops, you know, do like an accident report thing." I nodded my head while grabbing Melissa's hand. Please, please.

"I don't think that's necessary." Peter interrupted, looking around.

"Are you sure? I think I'm feeling a little whiplash." He touched his neck.

"Whiplash? You hit us!"

"I don't know - there's something definitely wrong with my neck." Melissa started screaming at him, and Peter went far from us, he was probably communicating with Scott, who had followed us.

I went closer to Peter, hearing him talk about Jackson. "Don't get close to her." He turned around. smirking at me. "Be a man." I glared at him. "Melissa has nothing to do with all this. Be a man, go for the ones who have something to do with this."

He grinned. "What are you going to do, sweetheart?"

"I was not the one held against a wall with a hand on my neck, choking to death." I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look intimidating.

"You don't even know how you did it." He came closer to me. "But I know-how. Don't you want to know? Don't you want to know what you are?" He tried to brush my cheek, but I slapped his hand away. "You, my dear, are very powerful. More than you think. Maybe even more than Scott. When you learn what you are and what you can do, you will be a great weapon."

"I'm a person, not a weapon."

"Aw, sweetheart." He pouted. "You aren't a person anymore, and you know it." He whispered the next thing, but of course, Scott was listening to him. "You could be stronger with me. Be part of my pack."

"She already has a pack." I hear Scott's voice in my head. How did he do that? "She is part of my pack."

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airi-p4 · 3 years

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Who’s the father?

I got this silly idea and I had to write it :S Silly, comedy, crack (?) and fluff (?) - and Lukanette endgame, of course.

AO3

__________________________________

Luka didn't expect to find Adrien Agreste in the hotel room he had been summoned by Marinette. ‘I need to tell you something important’ his wife had messaged him. But why was her ‘just a friend’ Adrien Agreste there too?

Luka greeted Adrien, confused, as he took a seat and looked for Marinette in the vast suite of Chloe’s father’s hotel. She came out of the toilet and turned to face them.

“Luka, you’ve arrived. Now that we’re all here, I have to tell you something…”

Luka gulped, nervous, expectant. Something about this situation felt very wrong, but he couldn’t place what yet. Then Marinette reached her pocket and took a device out of it, showing it to the men before dropping THE BOMB:

“I’m pregnant”

Joy should have been in Luka’s mind after the notice- but that wasn’t the case. FEAR was all he had in his body. ‘Pregnant? Awesome!’ But then again… Why was Adrien Agreste there...? Did that mean Luka wasn’t the father? Or that she didn't know? They’ve been dating for a few years, didn’t they? Heck! They were MARRIED! Then why? Was she cheating on him? He internally asked.

“Am I the father?” Adrien asked, and Luka was SHOCKED. It felt like cold water falling over him. Out of nowhere, more questions joined Adrien’s. “Or I am?” a red haired boy appeared in the room. “Maybe me?” the robot creator said, “Or me?” Kim added. Luka couldn’t believe his eyes. What was going on? Where did all those people come from? And why were they claiming Marinette’s child fatherhood. He was her husband! Shouldn’t he be THE ONLY possible candidate there?

“Is it mine, Marinette?”, “Or mine?” two new voices joined. ‘NINO!? IVAN!? This is so wrong!’

“It can only be from the coolest, and that’s me!” another man appeared in the room, and it scandalized Luka.

‘Oh no, not XY! This has to be a nightmare. Marinette what’s going on?’

“Marinette” Luka finally said, getting closer and holding her arms. He took a deep breath, trying to keep him calm, and gulped. “I am the father, right...?” he finally asked in a threat of a voice close to her ear.

Marinette’s gaze lowered and she chewed her lower lip to finally spill some tears and cover her face with her hands. ‘It can’t be…’ Luka feared the worst.

“WHO’S THE FATHEEEER!?” he screamed in despair.

__________________________

Luka woke up covered by cold sweat, and panting, shouting loudly the last sentence he pronounced in his dream.

“See? He’s ok. He only passed out of the shock. Welcome back, Luka”

Luka, still numb, turned his head towards the owner of that voice: Juleka, his twin sister. Who was she talking to? Juleka signaled to her left and there she was: Marinette, with a worried look on her face.

“Marinette! What happened?” he finally asked, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead.

“You passed out of the shock. Gosh, you’re hilarious! Next time don’t startle your wife like this. She was worried about you” Juleka said, adding a low “Lucky bastard…” and an elbow hit at his ribs at the end.

Luka blinked at Marinette. ‘Wife’ she had said. ‘At least the wife part is true!’ he sighed, relieved. ‘Of course it had to be! What was he thinking about?’ Realization hit him. “Wait- I passed out? Why did I pass out?”

Juleka made a ‘I told you’ gesture to Marinette, and the blushing woman took something out of her pocket: a positive pregnancy test.

His reaction wasn’t not what she had expected, but ‘at least he hasn’t passed out this time’. She sighed relieved, despite her concern and nervosity, expectant for his reaction.

Luka’s mouth fell to the floor and his eyes had never been so opened. ‘What?’ He quickly shook his head and pinched his arm (in case he was still dreaming- which wasn’t the case anymore) and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders first, and then moved his hands to cup her cheeks, staring at her sapphire blue eyes. Marinette jolted at his sudden touch.

“Marinette” he gulped. “Who’s the father?”

An awkward silence followed his question. Marinette was offended, and so showed her face, and Juleka was both rolling her eyes in disappointment and ready to grab some popcorn and enjoy the show to come.

“Are you making fun of me? Because this isn’t funny!” ‘Oh no, she sounds ANGRY’ Luka realized. “It’s obviously you, dummy!” she said.

“No Adrien, no tomato boy, no Kim, or Max or Nino- And please no XY?”

“What-!? NO! HELL NO! What are you talking about? Are you still asleep?” Marinette’s eyebrows frowned, and if she was already offended and angry, now she was also disgusted. “What’s wrong with you? Is this you denying the idea of being a father? If you hate it so much I can-”

“NO! NO NO NO! Marinette, NO! That’s not it! I just had a horrible nightmare and-” she frowned again- she thought he was just thinking of a silly excuse. Oh no. “Marinette. I love you and it would make me the happiest to become the father of your children. Trust me, please” he begged, trying to kiss Marinette on her lips, only to find it rejected. “I was just not expecting that. I’m shocked. You have to believe me, please!”

Marinette finally loosen up at her boyfriend’s desperate begging. She trusted him, after all. And she knew well enough he sometimes short-circuited, like the first time she had kissed him or when she had finally confessed to him after gathering the courage. Marinette giggled at the far memory.

“Luka. We’re going to have a baby. You and me. Me and you. We’re going to be a family of 3 soon!”

“Marinette, Oh my lord! We’re going to be parents! You’re going to be the best mother in the world and I’m going to be a fath-” he paused. “I’ll give it my all to be the best father I can”

Marientte blinked at his sudden change of attitude: from joyful to serious. “Are you ok? Do you need more time to process this? We can still think-”

“No, Marinette. That’s not it. It’s just… I’ve never had a father, you know? I became a little worried, that’s all. But I promise I’ll try to be the best father this child- our child- could ever have. I love you, Marinette. You make me so happy...” he fell into her arms, his joy palpable in the way he hugged her. And Marinette could finally breathe again, relieved and expectant of the new future awaiting for them.

“Oh, Luka! I love you too” she said, moving to eagerly kiss him.

That was Juleka’s curfew to leave the room, dragging her mother- who had been eavesdropping at the door- along and giving the couple some intimacy to process their future to come.

________________________________________

The parenthood news kept swirling in Luka’s mind. ‘Father’. The word alone frightened him. ‘Could he be a good father when he had no paternal figure all his life?’ Maybe it was time to ask her mother about his roots.

“Mom. Who’s our father” Luka asked after dinner at the Liberty’s deck, to Juleka’s surprise.

“Oh. I wondered when this time would come… It took you longer than expected to ask, son” Anarka said, finishing the last bit of her fruit salad. “Why now? If you’re scared of being a bad father like Gabriel Agreste then you shouldn’t worry, because-”

“No, that’s not it, mom. I never needed a father because you two were enough for me. But if I’m going to be a father, I need to be aware of possible genetic transmitted diseases or other possible alterations my child could inherit” Luka explained.

“I see. You’ll be a good father, Luka. I guess it’s time I tell you about him then...”

Juleka remained silent, just listened, curious, but also scared. She never had the courage to ask about their father in case it made her mother sad or angry, or whatever, despite wanting to know for a long time.

“When I was born it was a stormy day-” Anarka started.

“Mom. Straight to the point, please. Marinette and I have an appointment with the Doctor in less than two hours”, Luka rushed her, knowing she could be talking for hours otherwise.

“Ok, straight to the point, then” she pouted a little in a childish manner. Then she took a deep breath and gave them her answer. “I don’t know”

“Wait, what!?” The twins asked in unison.

“I don’t know, that’s it” she shrugged.

Juleka and Luka were staring at each other and looking for traces of joking in their mother's face. But nothing. She really didn’t know.

“You can’t be serious. Was it a stranger? Someone you don’t know?” Anarka denied it with her head. “You should have an idea then!”

“There are three possibilities…” she tilted her head in a remembering gesture.

“Oh, no. This is reminding me of Mamma Mia...” Juleka rolled her eyes, making Anarka chuckle a little at the comparison.

“Ok, tell us. I still want to know. “Luka demanded. “You want to know too, right?” he added, turning to Juleka, who nodded in agreement.

Anarka raised her arms, disarmed in front of her dearest children. “Ok, ok. I get it…. This is going to be surprising... “

“Just tell us! Do we know them?” Luka asked.

“You do” Anarka nodded. “First is… Agent Roger”

“AGENT ROGER!?” the twins yelled in panic, exchanging panicked looks.

“Oh no, mom! What were you thinking!?” Juleka asked.

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the problem! We were drunk, I was in prison, he was on watch. It just happened, and swore to forget it and never bring it up again”

“We may have a sister, then? Sabrina…”

“Impossible! it has to be someone else…” Juleka refused to believe. She still was her number one enemy- Chloe’s- best friend, after all. “Who else, mom?”

“Bob Roth…” she bluntly stated.

Luka’s face turned blue in horror for the idea. Juleka turned as pale as a ghost in disgust.

“Oh, no! Not him! Just- NO! What’s wrong with you, mom!? I can’t stand either him or his son! And the sole image of having XY as a half-brother…? ABSOLUTELY NO” Luka said in denial.

“Well, it’s not like I’m fond of that, lad… Mistakes happen, even I make them” she shrugged.

“That’s not what I would call a mistake… this- is something beyond a mistake…” Juleka mumbled, gaining Luka’s energetic nod in approval.

Anarka shrugged again. “Past is past. And what’s done is done. There’s no point in lamenting now, anyway. Not after 24 years…” Luka and Juleka kept their disgusted faces on, so Anarka decided to move on with the candidates. “Anyway, the last one is the most likely candidate…” she paused.

“Who is it, mom?” the twins demanded.

“Is… Jagged” she finally said.

“Jagged...? As Jagged Stone!?” Juleka blinked.

“Are you sure, mom!?” Luka stood up, palms still on the table.

“He’s the most likely, yes”

‘Was that a blush on his mother’s face!? And a faint smile?’ Luka thought, with mixed feelings.

“Jagged Stone and I played together for a while. We were comfortable with each other and sometimes it happened. You know- excitement and adrenaline from the shows, alcohol, emotions while composing…” Anarka was smiling at her memories, while Luka and Juleka thought they had heard enough.

“I don’t know what to say...” Luka sat back down. “Jagged seems like the best option out there but still…” Luka sighed. “Could we get a test done?”

“If you manage to get a hair, or saliva, or skin, or anything with DNA then yes, I guess it can be done” Anarka’s words sounded more like a challenge than anything, and it set Luka’s determination up, and Juleka launched a knowing glare towards her mother. She had always been good at manipulating her son.

“We’ll do it!” Luka yelled, rushing to meet with his wife.

_______________________________________________________

It wasn’t easy, but the twins finally managed to get the DNA needed for the test (with Marinette’s help, of course). They collected some of Sabrina’s and XY’s hair (easiest choices since their parents were bald) and Marientte managed to get Jagged’s hair too.

Luka took them to the laboratory to get the DNA test done. ‘For my girls’ he thought, delighted about finding out they were going to have a daughter after their last visit with the Doctor. Oh, and he planned to spoil her so much! He would daydream and grin at the thought, hugging his wife’s belly in joy.

Finally, some days later, the test results arrived at the Liberty. Anarka had the letter on her hand, while Juleka, Rose, Marinette and Luka gathered to hear its content. Anarka ripped the sealed envelope and carefully unfolded the letter and proceeded to read it. He stared at the note, in silence, re-reading it and making faces. She was testing their patience and Luka’s nervousness peaked.

“I see… that’s it then...” Anarka mumbled.

“WHO’S THE FATHER!?” Everyone present yelled in demand.

Anarka smirked teasingly at their reactions- just as she wanted.

“Mom please!” Luka begged.

She was tempted to say Bob Roth just to tease them, but it seemed too cruel to her children to even joke about it, so she opted to tell them the truth.

“It’s Jagged”

Luka sighed in relief, as well as the rest of the family. Marinette caressed his arm a little, before he stood up and took the test results out of his mother’s hands to read it from himself. Not that he didn’t trust his mother but with Anarka, you never know. Juleka approached to read its contents too.

Sabrina - Not a sibling. Xavier Yves - Not a sibling. Jagged Stone - 99,9% Positive

Luka was relieved to finally know (mostly because the results discarded the worst two possibilities). Later, Marinette contacted uncle Jagged to let him know the news. After some dramatic performance, the rock star cried tears of joy from the discovery of having children (and grandchildren soon!).

And maybe it wasn’t what Luka expected (what was he supposed to expect, anyway?) but the idea of having a father didn’t feel as bad anymore.

From then on, Jagged, Penny and their newborn son became part of the Couffaine family, and Luka kept his promise to Marinette to be the best father in the world, and he spoiled his daughter (and her siblings) with everything he got.

He was the father, after all.

#lukanette fic #my fic #airipyon #airip4 #Don't take this too seriously #it's just a silly fic #I wanted to draw a comic...#I tried and it didn't work out #so no comic sadly #Can someone write that Mamma Mia AU tho??

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miniconrightsactivist · 4 years

Text

The events of last week were still fresh in Lingo’s mind, Sanctuary City’s Halloween festivities gone horribly, horribly wrong. Her chassis was still riddled with teeth marks and her shorn off arm had yet to be replaced. Her dreams were still full of small rooms full of weeping people and terrifying monsters that prowled silently outside just waiting for their opportunity to eat them, regardless of composition, mech or human or other. And now her house was filled with strangers. Uninvited. Who were sleeping on her couch.

Uninvited.

Strangers who had been responsible for nearly killing Juke.

IN HER HOUSE. UNINVITED.

But Juke wasn’t telling them to leave, and she wasn’t about to be in the same room with them, so she had turned heel and trekked her way back down the mountain to the nearest hill where she could see a spire.

It wasn’t… ideal.

Nothing about anything since she left home had been ideal.

Nothing about anything since Stratosphere had died had been ideal…

But the air was cold and clouds were sparse, and upon the hilltop sat a radio tower. Cell phone tower? Some sort of electronic tower, she supposed it didn’t matter which as Lingo climbed her way up, bit by bit. It wasn’t the best idea, seeing as how she was down an arm, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d be getting down but for now, between her remaining hand and her magnets she could creep her way up the tower as long as she took her time.

The nights were coming faster than they had a month ago – or even a week ago – and the orange veil of the sunset had dragged itself down the horizon enough to uncover a faint speckling of stars in the distance. She wasn’t sure where Cybertron was in this night sky, with how the planet spun around so much, ever changing the sky.

Steadying herself between beams, Lingo pinched a cord from her headset and dragged it out. There wasn’t really a corresponding outlet to plug into on this tower, so she simply held the wire in place. It worked well enough for her purposes for now, she just needed to borrow the tower’s satellite signal to boost her transmission. If it could even boost that far…

The first message was a hesitant, fearful little, :: Hello...? ::

And then she simply had to wait. To see if a connection could be made. To see if a connection would be accepted, or if she would be rebuked for … all the ridiculous things she’d done up to this point. Maybe he would just block her number, and go on about his life without her, and she wouldn’t need to entertain the thought of ever coming home again because it wasn’t as though she had a family that wanted her there-

:: Hello? :: Circuit’s voice on the other end was tinged with alarm and uncertainty. :: Lingo? Is that you? ::

:: Hey… :: She tried not to let herself sound too tired, staring up as the sky grew gradually darker. :: Yeah… it’s me… ::

:: Where are you? I had the most awful nightmare I was being chased by a monster and it grabbed me and there were so many teeth- ::

:: I- Sorry… ::

:: Why are you sorry? Was that real? Are you alright? ::

:: … Don’t tell Fireball, :: she blurted breathlessly, gaze dropping to her hands where they worried at the still healing holes in her thigh. It didn’t hurt to walk anymore after sleeping off the week, but now and then there was still a twinge of pain if she moved the wrong way. :: Fireball doesn’t need to know what happened… I’m fine. ::

Silence descended over the line, and Lingo thought he may have hung up or lost their connection when he murmured, :: I’m not fine… ::

:: Are you okay…? ::

:: No? I’m – missing half of me! And I don’t even know why! Your room was trashed and you were gone and nobody knew what had happened to you, if you’d been taken away by someone or what-! ::

:: I… meant to call sooner… :: the excuse felt hollow and stupid even as it came out.

:: Please tell me where you are? We can come get you… ::

:: I don’t want you to come get me… ::

:: But Lingo- ::

:: I don’t need you to come get me. I don’t need Fireball telling me what a stupid glitch I am and busting my other eye- ::

:: She’s sorry for that- ::

:: I don’t care! Why should I care?! Why should I care that she’s sorry when she’s shown she’s willing to beat me into submission if she doesn’t get her way regardless of what anyone else wants or thinks or feels- ::

:: She didn’t mean to it was an accident- ::

:: You don’t accidentally destroy lunar cycles of research- ::

:: She was scared, she was trying to protect us- ::

:: Stop making excuses for her! ::

:: I’m not! ::

:: You are! This is why I left! This is why! Nobody cares about what happens to me, they all care about Fireball and protecting her ego and making excuses and- ::

:: You left…? :: The hurt in his voice reigned in her tirade. :: You left us willingly? Left me willingly? Without an explanation? Without a note or anything? ::

:: Don’t try to make me into the bad guy here… ::

:: I’m not. I’m- Nobody is the bad guy here, okay? Nobody is the bad guy. Everyone made mistakes, everyone hurt each other… You’re hurt, I’m hurt. ::

:: I didn’t want to hurt you… that was- ::

:: An accident? ::

:: An unfortunate side effect… I. I had a lead. I needed to follow it. I needed to know the truth. ::

:: And what was the truth? :: Lingo fell quiet at the softly spoken question, the hesitance prompting Circuit to ask again. :: Did you find it? ::

:: Yeah… kinda… :: she sighed, resting her head back and letting her optics slide shut. If she focused on the signal, she could almost feel his spark pulse syncing with hers. Almost… :: It was ugly, and not what I thought it was going to be… ::

:: What was it? ::

:: That Fireball was basically right… I was putting us in danger… you saw everything about the Council right? The Decepticons? ::

:: Yeah… ::

:: The Autobots didn’t kill Stratosphere after all… ::

:: … I know… ::

:: … don’t- ::

:: I won’t tell her anything, :: Circuit assured her, sounding as tired as she was. She wondered if Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had nightmares when one was in trouble… she wondered how far the range of a twins’ bond reached, and how much emotion had to be keenly felt to transmit across the distance…

:: The cat things were real by the way. ::

:: WHAT ::

:: I kinda lost an arm and got chewed on a bit. Don’t tell Fireball. ::

:: LINGO- ::

:: Okay I love you bye. ::

:: DON’T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN SIX YEARS I- :: Lingo’s spark squeezed painfully when his voice dropped, sad and weak, :: I miss you… I miss us. ::

:: I miss you too… Primus below I miss you so much. And- and it’s like- I’m just wandering around here as half a person, and even then I’m not half a person I’m half of a sixth of a person I’m like a twelfth of a person meandering about aimlessly and it was all so pointless and everything I do is so pointless and stupid and doesn’t change anything at all in the end and all I wanted was to make a difference - ::

:: You make a difference with us. We need you… ::

:: I don’t though, Circuit…! I don’t. Aegis may not be the same mech with five instead of six but at the end of the day I’m just an extra piece that you don’t even need. You could just rearrange to fit without me… ::

:: I can’t… I can’t just rearrange my pieces to fill the missing space. And neither can you. What about us? Lingo aren’t you suffering out there by yourself? If it wasn’t for the rest of the team I don’t even know where my head would be right now with half of me on another planet some billions of light years away… ::

:: It’s… fine. I’m fine… ::

:: You’re not fine. You’re not fine and neither am I… ::

:: I love you but I have to go. ::

:: Lingo please- ::

:: Don’t tell her I called, okay? I’ll call again soon. ::

:: Please don’t keep running away from me we need each other we’re not meant to be apart like this- ::

:: I’ll call tomorrow maybe okay? I love you. ::

:: Don’t hang up please it’s only been a few kliks you’re gone six years and I only get to hear you for a few kliks?? ::

:: Bye Circuit… ::

:: LIN- ::

Her head thunked back against the steel beams of the tower, and she tried not to feel the frantic flurries of her spark, desperately seeking a connection from so far away.

Maybe what it boiled down to was just that … she was a coward. She was afraid of going home and admitting defeat, admitting that she was wrong. She was afraid of facing her family, and hearing all the reasons why it had been so stupid of her to leave and of course she was going to end up failing…

She was afraid of the hurt she had inflicted on herself and her brother, afraid of having to acknowledge it and see it raw and real before her.

As long as she stayed away, it didn’t have to be real. As long as she stayed on Earth and bounced her signals off other planets and hid her life signs inside the mountain where no one could find her, it didn’t have to be real.

It didn’t have to be real.

Not yet…

#Sanctuary City aftermath #Halloween event aftermath #Family drama

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yourfaveisyanderematic · 5 years

Text

For Those Who Don’t Listen

Request for @veninos-posion, who wanted Diavolo/Doppio!

You couldn’t listen to orders, even simple ones like “don’t go after the Boss”. That’s alright, Doppio can fix that.

WARNING: EAR TRAUMA

“You haven’t seen the worst I can do.”

The way he said it—a gentle whisper, barely audible above your own ragged breathing—made it seem almost like he was stating a fact, and not giving a threat. You weren’t able to see your interrogator or what he was doing, so you flinched away when he tugged at your hair, rewarded with only a metallic clink for your efforts as the cuffs resisted you moving even an inch. The sounds of dripping blood mingled with the noise. Each move you made elicited new waves of stinging pain through you, the result of several deep and deliberate cuts made along your back and shoulders. You got the feeling that you’d find a pattern to the wounds if you concentrated, but that was the last thing you wanted to do.

The cuffs made another musical clinking noise as you yanked on them again, a little more desperately this time. If he was amused by your futile struggle, your captor had the decency to not say anything. He took a few moments of silence to brush at your hair, pulling it away from your neck until all that remained were a few strands stuck in place by rivulets of sweat. You felt a chill, but you couldn’t decide if it was from the continued gentleness he treated you with or the air-conditioned breeze wafting past.

You wish you were cold; being cold could have numbed the pain, even just slightly. Instead you were comfortable, too much so, the only chill you felt from the cooler air and the cold stone beneath your bare feet. There would be no distractions from what could only be a painful, prolonged murder.

It was enough to get a sad, slightly hysterical chuckle out of you, the noise echoing in the space and mingling with a dripping sound coming from somewhere (it sounded cavernous. Were you underground? In the catacombs, maybe?). Nero warned you that you’d mess up, that your Stand ability wasn’t meant for this task and you didn’t have the benefit of a team, and you should have listened to him. You should have listened to him.

You should have listened to him.

A phone rang, breaking you out of your reverie. The man behind you, who had gone from brushing your hair out of the way of your ears to inhaling the scent of your sweat and fear, quickly stepped away to answer it…or pretended to, anyway. You could swear he made that clicking sound with his tongue. What was going on? Was this some kind of weird tactic, to make you sweat and get you to spill whatever information he wanted faster?

You took the chance to turn your head as far as it would go to look at him. He seemed youngish, with flowing pink hair and a babyish face you could see only in profile. He must have been holding his phone in his other hand, but the conversation certainly seemed real; he was in animated whispered discussion with whoever was on the other end.

He didn’t seem like the type of person to be a torturer for the Boss…but if this job had taught you anything, it was that people were rarely what they seemed.

That, and you were an idiot for thinking this could have ended any other way. You weren’t dead the second you were caught, you were dead the second you decided to even try to learn the secret of the Boss’ Stand.

You strained to listen to the conversation, desperate to get any kind of hint as to what was about to happen to you and prepare yourself, but the presence of a small white tray on a table behind you stopped you cold. You couldn’t see what was on it, it was covered with a dainty white cloth, but it couldn’t be anything good. The other man, following your gaze, quickly stepped over and nudged the tray to the side, pushing it out of your view. You had the sinking feeling you were going to get acquainted with whatever was under that cloth very soon.

“Click.” The man had hung up—or pretended to, you weren’t sure— bringing his full attention to you once more. You drew a deep breath as he walked up behind you again, resting both his hands on your shoulders, yearning to throw them off but smart enough to know that it wouldn’t matter.

“What made you do it, Carina? Why did you decide to go against the Boss?”

You stared ahead in stony silence. He’d get nothing from you, you decided, not this soft looking man who would probably spend the rest of his life bowing and scraping after some nameless monster. Your heart was thumping in your ears, and you had no doubt you would die screaming, but you would die with dignity. It was all you had left.

“I have nothing to say to you. You might as well kill me and get it over with, worm.” You meant to say these words with a brave sort of defiance, but you choked on the word kill.

“Kill you?” the man repeated, brushing past your moment of weakness and having the nerve to sound confused. “Why would I kill you?”

Confusion at the apparent sincerity, anger at the reply, a nameless fear that you were missing something very important here—these feelings roiled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel even more sick than you already did. Maybe you could throw up on his shoes, you decided, the thought giving you a savage sort of satisfaction.

“Are you stupid? Should I even dignify that with a response? Everyone knows the punishment for trying to learn about the boss is death, why bother lying?”

He laughed—a sharp, unnatural sound, as if it had been startled out of him. You felt him pat your shoulder in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring but had the opposite effect. “Oh! Oh, oh, oh—I mean, I agree that if it was anyone else in your chair, they would be removed from this world. I understand your confusion now. That makes sense, that makes sense…You don’t have to keep calling me names, by the way—I’m Doppio.”

“I don’t care. Is there some other traitor you need to torture to death first?” For someone who had spent over an hour in captivity and awaiting execution, you had been remarkably unharmed, at least by the standards of those who had been in your place before. Apart from the cuts this Doppio person had been inflicting on you, all you had to show for the ordeal was a few massive bruises, a bloody nose and a twisted ankle from when the Boss’ guards took you down.

At this point, your worst fear was that the Boss planned to make some kind of spectacle with your death, like he did poor Sorbet and Gelato of the Execution Squad.

“No, no, sorry about the wait. The Boss just wanted to make sure I knew what your punishment was…he wouldn’t trust me to write it down.”

Doppio stepped back, and you heard the cloth fall to the floor as he grabbed whatever was on the tray with an unprecedented eagerness. You braced yourself against the pain to squirm in your seat again, trying and failing to see what was in his hand, to no avail—the second he got close enough, Dopplio’s arm wrapped around your head with unexpected strength. You cried out in spite of yourself, suddenly sounding as afraid as you felt. With your hands restrained and your head locked in place, you couldn’t even consider resisting as you felt something cold and metallic rest against the entrance to your ear.

“You wouldn’t happen to remember what the parts of your ear are called, do you?” Doppio asked in that same soft voice, like the question had just occurred to him and he was hoping you knew the answer. “I know you don’t have any medical training, but I thought you should know this much at least. It’s important to be well rounded when you’re the Boss’ plaything, after all.”

That cold, sharp point traced the outside of your ear in a tight little circle. A needle? No, it was too big. You wanted to scream, to fight him off, anything, but you couldn’t move. Your cries came out as a whimper through clenched teeth.

“There are three parts, but we’re only really interested in two of them today. There’s the outer ear—that’s the part most people think of, with the auricle and the auditory canal and the upper part of the eardrum. Your middle ear is made of the tympanic cavity and the eardrum and the ossicles. The inner ear, Carina, happens to be the most interesting part. This is where your cochlea is, which transmits sound, and the semicircular ducts, which help you keep your balance.”

There was a reason he was telling you all this, and you realized what that reason was in a horrible bolt of clarity that made you feel sick. Doppio had been studying your face quite closely this whole time, and his smile lit up as if you’d done nothing more than get a correct answer on a test.

“That’s it, you understand right away! The Boss knew he was right to pick you, there’s no sense in a doll that can’t put two and two together.” Your eyes, forced to stare upwards at the ceiling, wheel around helplessly, looking for something—anything—that could save you. A reprieve, a distraction, a miracle of some kind—

“And, well, the Boss thinks—and I must say, I agree—that if you’re not going to do as you’re told, then you might as well have a reason.”

Doppio's voice had pitched lower suddenly as he uttered those last words, his eyes once soft and brown, but now pitiless and glittering oddly under the light, appearing green. He shifted the angle of his hand, guiding the tip of what you now knew to be a very thin pair of scissors into your ear. Your thrashing became even more desperate, but he was holding your head so tightly it was as if you weren’t moving at all.

“No—stop—no! No!” You choke out, to no avail, as Doppio took a deep breath and pushed. You spasmed in your seat, your pleas cut off by your own high-pitched screaming as the metal was forced deeper into your ear canal. The agony of the intrusion intensified exponentially as Doppio met a slight resistance, but only for a moment. A wave of nausea overtook you as you felt something pop and fluid rush out, and your agonized wail suddenly become much quieter. Doppio extracted the blade and let it fall to the ground, caressing your head and murmuring what sounded like comforting words. It took you several seconds to realize he wasn’t murmuring, just speaking normally into an ear that could no longer hear.

At long last, he let you go, quickly stepping back as you turned your head and threw up the little that remained in your stomach. Something trickled down the side of your face, but you couldn’t decide if it was tears or whatever your ear needed to function properly. You sagged in your seat, now horribly aware that Doppio surely intended to do your other ear too but unable to do anything about it.

So this was what despair felt like. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could brave it until the very end. You squeezed your eyes shut.

A few seconds later, you registered something soft dabbing at your mouth, cleaning your face up; you closed your eyes tighter and turned your head away from Doppio as he tried to wipe everything away. He ignored even this token defiance, not stopping until he was done, and then crouched by your good ear to try talking to you some more.

“Now, the Boss has decided to go easy on you this time. He’s going to stop at your other ear. Obviously this means you can’t work anymore, and we can’t let the other Passione members think they can try to disobey the Boss’ cardinal rule and get away with a small punishment, right?” He pushed his head closer to yours, speaking so closely that the slightest turn of your head would plant his lips on your neck. You don’t even have it in you to feel fear anymore at the pronouncement that you will become completely deafened.

“You aren’t leaving. The Boss has made arrangements; you’ll be comfortable and taken care of, so long as you don’t disobey, ever again. Your body is so delicate…it would be a shame to ruin it, but he’s going to punish you however many times it takes before you learn your lesson.”

“But you’ll be good for him, won’t you, Carina? You’ll listen now, won’t you?”

You’re not even sure if you said ‘yes’. You had begun to cry, ugly heaving sobs that wouldn’t stop, not even when you couldn’t hear yourself anymore.

#fic #yandere x reader #warning: torture #diavolo is also here but he's more of a backseat role #what do the cuts on Reader's back say? It's a mystery!#yandere doppio #vinegar doppio #by me

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 6 years

Text

We’re the Bad Guys: Part 2

(not my gif)

Masterlist

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Poe Dameron x Reader (eventually), First Order!Reader

Summary: From the day you were born, you were taught the rebels and their New Republic were the bad guys. But, after you crash land on a remote moon with only the Resistance’s poster boy for company, things begin the change.

Based off of this drabble and headcanon

A/N: PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! For real guys, nothing motivate writers like validation.

Word Count: 2.3 K

The smell of burning metal and smoke filled your nose, snapping you back to reality. Everything was in a haze as muffled alarms blared through the burning wreck that was once your Tie-Fighter.

You couldn’t breathe. In an act of desperation, you yanked off your helmet. The smoke hit you full force, forcing a hard cough from your lungs.

Fighting through the ache in your back and chest, you sat up. You barely got two inches off the ground before collapsing, sending a spike of pain through your entire body. You needed to move. You would suffocate if you didn’t, but every limb was refusing to take orders.

Why couldn’t you have just died on impact? At least then you could had gone out with some dignity. As it stood, all you could do was sit and choke.

You vision was starting to fade. The world blinked between blurred and black. You closed your eyes in a vain attempt to clear your head. When you opened them again, the red of your control board was gone.

Above you stood a darkening blue sky with only the tops of trees to interrupt the view. A notion of confusion entered your mind. It was then you finally noticed a pair of hands tucked under your arms and the sensation of your legs being dragged on the ground. You came to a stop and black started to enter your vision.

“Hey. Pilot. Can you hear me?” a muffled voice asked.

You blinked again. Now the sky was blocked by handsome man with dark curls and darker eyes. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked you over. You might had counted yourself lucky, if it weren’t for the fact he was wearing the orange flight suit of a New Republic X-Wing fighter.

The world snapped into focus as you jerked away. Your hand instinctively went to your side, only to find your blaster nowhere in reach.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he assured. He reached out to you, but you slapped his hand away. It didn’t deter him. He only scooted around you, placing a hand on your back to help you upright. You tried to fight him off, but it was an exercise in futility. Your arms were still too weak, and you could feel a steady throb growing in your left leg.

He kept his hand on your back to keep you steady as he glanced up at the fading sun.

“Put your arm around my shoulders,” he instructed.

You answered with a hateful look, but he only rolled his eyes.

“It’s either that or I carry you,” he said honestly.

You stared him down, but, after a moment, you did as he asked. He gave you a small smile of thanks before lifting you to your feet.

You muffled a cry as you did, the throb in your leg turning into a sharp spike of pain. If the pilot heard you, he made no mention of it.

Once you were standing, you finally got a clear view of your ship. It was damaged beyond repair. The only reason why it wasn’t worse, was because you had somehow managed to only brush the tops of the trees before crashing into a small clearing. By all accounts, you shouldn’t have been alive.

As if feeling your thoughts, the pilot turned your away from the sight and towards the tree line.

“C’mon, let’s get that leg looked at.”

His words surprised you. Hell, every action he had taken had surprised you since the moment you opened your eyes. It was only when he started leading you through the forest did it dawn on you how strange it all was. Moments ago, this man had made a very clear effort to kill you and you had attempted the same. And now he was helping you? What sense did that make?

Soon enough, you came to another clearing. Off towards the edge was his ship. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or outraged by the sight.

The pilot had actually managed to land the damn thing. Sure, it was half buried in the dirt and wouldn’t be lifting off any time soon. Still, it was salvageable, and he had walked away unharmed.

It was at that moment a little orange BB unit blurred into vision beeping and whistling up a storm. You couldn’t make out a thing it was saying, but the pilot easily translated.

“I’m fine buddy,” he said with a smile. “Can you get the med kit from the emergency pack.”

The droid was taken aback by this comment, looking between you and the pilot with what could only be described as suspicion. It let out an indignant beep.

“Because they’re hurt, and I said so,” he said.

The droid then looked to your leg and up your entire body. It stared at your face for a long while. You could feel yourself being scrutinized under its tiny gaze. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but a small part of you knew you had to take it seriously. You straighten yourself up as best you could and looked right back, never once blinking.

It then turned back to his master with one last whistle. The pilot then looked at you and back to the droid before shrugging.

“Beats me too bud.”

And with that, he guided you to a nearby log watching after your leg the whole time. You wanted to ask what the droid had said but decided against it. You had to protect what dignity you had left. Asking an enemy soldier what their droid said about you seemed like a silly thing to break your silence over.

The droid then rolled over, handing the pilot the kit.

“Thanks BB-8. Any luck?”

BB-8 gave a sad beep and shook its head.

“Alright,” the pilot said, “just keep me updated.”

It gave one last beep, standing tall at being assigned its new mission and rolled away.

You didn’t need to ask what they were talking about then. You could see clearly enough distress beacon set up beside the ship. A small bit of hope filled you. If the pilot had to resort to the distress beacon, it meant his radio was out. The beacon would have to be set to all frequencies to be effective. Which meant, the First Order had just as much chance to pick up the transmission as the Resistance.

“Let’s take a look at that leg,” he said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes narrowed as you moved your injured leg out of his reach. You let out a hiss in pain at the effort.

The pilot let out a huff of frustration. “Your leg needs to be set. Let me help you.”

You refused to comply, hitting him with the strongest look of contempt you could muster.

He got the message. With some reluctance, he left the med kit on the log beside you and lifted his hands in surrender.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He backed away to a respectful distance, all while keeping his attention right on you.

If he thought you were going to cave from stage fright, he was sorely mistaken. With as much care as you could manage, you pulled your boot off your foot. You let out an involuntary cry of pain as you did. The pilot’s eyes widened at the sound, and he made a move toward you. You shot him a glare at he did. There was a long moment of silence before he nodded a took a seat once more.

You turned your attention back to your leg. It was more certainly broken. You gathered what supplies that you could from the med kit, and tore a few branches laying on the ground around you.

“So, what’s your name,” the pilot asked, breaking the silence.

You didn’t answer right away as you kept your focus on binding your leg.

“I don’t talk to traitors,” you answered coolly.

He raised an eyebrow at your answer. “Oh, so you can talk,” he said sardonically. “And here I was thinking all First Order pilots took a vow of silence or something.”

You said nothing, allowing the silence to speak for itself.

“Well, I’m Poe, Poe Dameron,” he said conversationally. “I take it you’ve heard of me.”

The name did surprise you. Poe Dameron had made quite a reputation for himself. You had heard his name tossed around casually as the best pilot in General Organa’s not so secret Resistance. You hated to admit it, but the rumors didn’t do him justice. Of course, you would never say it to his face.

“Only in passing,” you said dryly.

“Oh really?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow. “What do they say in passing?”

“That you’re one of the bad guys.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Well there’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Is that so,” you said as you tied the list knot in your splint. “Who shot me down exactly?”

“If fairness, you tried to kill me first.”

“Only because you attacked our ships,” you countered sharply. You were starting to take issue with how casually he was taking the situation. “Last time I checked, the New Republic and First Order had a pact of nonaggression.”

His smile faded, and his expression grew serious. It looked odd on him. Something told you it wasn’t a look he used often.

“I don’t act in the name of the Republic.”

“Of course, you just act in name of Resistance, funded by the New Republic.”

He didn’t have a ready come back. His expression grew blank. You had to wonder if the attack on the supply run was even ordered by General Organa in the first place.

“Not to worry Commander,” you said ironically. “Your little indiscretion isn’t going to make the First Order declare war on anyone. We’re subject to the same technicalities as you are.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Good. Let him be the one of edge for once. His easy smiles were starting to get on your nerves.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, changing the subject.

You gave a hollow laugh. “Don’t pretend you care about my well-being.”

“Who’s pretending? I saved your life.”

“Only to ensure your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You rolled your eyes. Just how naïve did he think you were?

“The distress beacon transmits to all frequencies,” you said in a condescending tone. “We’re in First Order space. If you think saving my life will somehow lessen your punishment, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He stared at you in stunned silence, blinking a few times as he came to grips with what you just said.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you think I saved your life not because it was the right thing to do, but to save my own skin?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The man continued to gape at you. His ran his hand over his jaw, shaking his head in bewilderment.

You felt your own uncertainty fill you. Either he was the greatest actor you had ever met, or he truly didn’t understand why he would save someone for his own gain. It made you uncomfortable. You didn’t want his kindness to be sincere. He was your enemy. He needed to stay your enemy.

“So, I take it if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t have done the same?”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly. You didn’t know. Would you had let him die? You thought back to a moment during your battle. You had wanted to reach out to him, to warn him not to jump to hyperspace in a damaged ship.

No. It was just a moment of weakness. You couldn’t let him win.

“No,” you said stiffly. “I would have let you burn.”

He stared at you for a long while. His dark eyes peered into yours, making your insides twist under their scrutiny. After what felt like an eternity, he looked away, shaking his head.

“I can’t buy that.”

Your eyes narrowed as frustration started to build within you. Why couldn’t he just hate you?

“You don’t know me Commander. I don’t take mercy on my enemies that way you do.”

He scoffed as his exasperation grew. “You really are a piece of work.”

“I don’t like being patronized,” you said matter-of-factly. “I never asked you to be nice to me and I certainly didn’t ask you to save my life. Don’t expect me to be grateful.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but his own anger and frustration was becoming too much. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and walked away from you.

Good. Let him hate you. It would make everything easier.

Before you could settle into the new status quo, however, he spun back towards you.

“No. You know what? Screw you!” he snapped. “I’m not going to apologize for rescuing you. Cause I’d do it again, and again, and again because that’s what good people do. That’s what a decent person does!”

Your eyes widened at his outburst.

He wasn’t looking for a response. He had said his piece. Without another word, he turned around and walked back towards his ship.

You sat there in awkward silence for a long while. Guilt began to creep into your thoughts and stomach. He was making this so unnecessarily complicated.

He was a member of the Resistance. His parents were undoubtedly rebels. The same people who had torn the life you should have had away from you. You weren’t his friend. You could never be his friend.

On the other hand, he had saved your life and you were stuck on an alien moon with no clear chance of rescue anytime soon. You could be spending days, maybe even weeks in each other’s company. Maybe he had the right idea of at least being civil too each other.

You watched him as he sorted through supplies, counting out rations, heat blankets and whatever else he could find. It didn’t slip past your notice how he was making two piles of equal proportion.

You ran your hand down you face letting out a long sigh. Unnecessarily complicated indeed.

Permanent tag list: @sassy-satanunicorns, @roseslovedreams, @stargeek727, @kaliforniacoastalteens, @yourwonderbelle

Poe tag list: @readytourie, @starwrite-er, @xenwayy, @whymak, @thefirebreather00, @cobalt-one, @aroseamongthestars, @tlittlet, @bobateaandchocolatepudding, @mrsdaamneron, @giggleberts, @natureandfanfiction

Story tag list: @mae-laufeyson, @sithskywalkers, @phoenixsolo, @badwolfandtimelords

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe #poe x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #the force awakens #the force awakens imagine #sw: tfa #sw:tfa imagine #the last jedi #the last jedi imagine #sw:tlj #sw:tlj imagine #oscar isaac

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yeehaw-im-a-guy · 5 years

Text

Agony of the White Box

These days, I’m not sure what I could have done differently. My mind was crowded, my heart was full and my stomach was bloated. Would I have been able to avoid Jean in the first place?

The crisp autumn air was still as I walked down the dreary, nipping sidewalk of my home town, the shy bit of Quincy, Boston. I was walking swiftly, eager to get out of the cold air, watching as cars drifted by, the rubber on their wheels splashing gently in puddles of dirty asphalt water. My earbuds were shoved into my ears, playing sad songs and sorrowful melodies sung by grunge guitars and horrible, phone-recorded voices. The trees loomed over the cracked and dull streets of Quincy, and when you weren’t staring at the way the neon Dunkin Donuts’ sign shone through the fog, you couldn’t help but stare up at the swaying hickory tree branches. My walk to school was always calming and I always felt somewhat protected by the large branches and leaves, but on this particular day something just didn’t feel right.

In the distance, I began to approach my high school. I was starting my sophomore year at Wildwood High, although not as bright eyed and hopeful as I was my freshman year. I was still just as naive, admittedly, as I still desperately wanted to make friends with someone, anyone really. Part of me told myself that this yearning for anybody could get me in trouble, but another part of myself said that it didn’t matter. I’d take any amount of time with someone, if being friends with somebody meant that eventually it would all come crashing down, so be it. That’s just how I was, and how everybody in high school was at its core, just another guy looking for companionship.

The school campus had a distinct smell, stemming from the cafeteria, of cooked low-grade meat and half baked bread. The hallways were warm, heating my pink face and my thin knobby knuckles, the escape from the chilly morning successful. My boots squeaked against the tile, leaving watery brown marks on the floor. Students crowded around the hallway, giving me little room to get around, but they wouldn’t pay attention to me anyway. Cheering voices and gossiping chatter filled my ears, so I turned my music up louder. I couldn’t hear it when the bell started to ring, students started leaving the halls. Well, most except for one guy, who I noticed stared at me from across the now empty hall. My music blared into my ears, drums beating violently and guitar strings plucked every which way, creating a slur of noise in the faint shape of a song. The guy across the hall was tall, lanky and had bad, scarring acne. His eyebrows were dark and thick over his eyes, which could have been as large and glossy as a pair of cue-balls. His hair was thin and a tad bit crusty, it looked as if it had been dyed and bleached multiple times. I’ll admit, I’ve seen him before a few times in the halls, but it was only today that I noticed a faint grin across his face as he stared, just a few feet away from me.

My eyes locked with him briefly before continuing my walk down the hallway, trying to just ignore the glaring glass eyes and get to class.

A few boring classes into the day, I was making my way to the gym for a team sports class. I didn’t bring a change of clothes, I never do, so I spent the hour chasing footballs and breathing heavily in a pair of black jeans and a warm sweater. The ball was rarely thrown to me, the other students didn’t know or trust me enough to catch it, and I don’t blame them. Towards the end of the already merciless exercise, Coach Stephen pushed me to try and catch the football more, so reluctantly I ran up and down the gym, attempting to let the other rowdy boys know that I was open. After nearly giving up, my eyes dropped for a single moment, and in the same breath drifted up again, and I caught a glimpse of something being thrown at me, full speed and force. I lifted my hands, but not soon enough. I caught the ball horribly wrong, and the next thing I knew, my pinky finger and ring finger were bent way out of shape, the nail on my pinky halfway off and gushing blood. The students came to a cold halt, all eyes on me. A few of them began to laugh, then others joined. My face twisted into a confused look.

“Seriously? You can’t even catch the ball? You pansy, that could’ve been our point!”

“He must’ve had a wedgie, judging by the way he ran.”

“I should’ve recorded that for WorldStar!”

The jeers echoed in the gym.

I tucked my bleeding hand in my other, holding it against my sweater. Biting on the inside of my cheek to try and contain the pain, I waited thoroughly embarrassed until the class was over to possibly get to the school’s nurse.

In between classes, I drifted down the empty hallways to get to the nurse. The white halls were bland yet bright, stinging my eyes. I lifted up my good hand to gently graze it against the wall of the hallway, feeling for texture. None. The walls were as smooth as they were painfully white. My head turned back to the front of myself, facing the end of the bleak hall, however something new was interrupting the static of the hallways. The guy from this morning was standing in the middle of the hallway, I figured he must’ve just stepped from the corner. My eyes darted away shyly, before returning their awkward gaze at the guy. My good hand dropped to my side, leaving my bloodied, bent hand against my now blood soaked sweater. I began to turn the corner of the hall, stepping as close to him as I had ever gotten.

“Does it hurt?” A raspy, deep voice spoke in the static. I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing. I turned back to him, his blue eyes reaching into mine.

“What hurts?” My voice cracked.

“Oh come on, don’t act like that doesn’t hurt.” His head turned, similar to that of a dog, a concerned feeling being transmitted from his expression. I looked hesitantly down at my stinging hand.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I-I guess so,” I laughed nervously, trying to find the right response. The guy held his expression for a moment longer before shifting his position, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and standing up a bit straighter. His head flicked back to me.

“My name is Jean.” He grinned at me.

“Joseph,” I held my arm out to Jean for a shake. He gripped my palm firmly and shook it.

“You’re heading to the nurse, right?” He asked me nonchalantly. I nodded.

“I’m gonna join you.” He briskly patted my head, his large palms blanketing over my hair.

We began walking down the next hall.

His eyes wandered once more. Then darted.

“How’d it happen?” Jean spoke, keeping his face forward.

“Oh, I uh, caught a football wrong.” I answered, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Did the other kids laugh?” He asked. I was put off.

“Uhm, yes. Why?”

“The kids at this school are disgusting.” Jean said aggressively. I felt the blood rush away from my face, leaving me pale.

All of a sudden, I felt my arm being yanked, almost violently. Jean was dragging me somewhere.

“What are you doing?” I squealed, shooting him the scared look of a deer in headlights.

“You can’t trust the nurses here, Joseph. You can’t trust any of these teachers, if you want that hand repaired, come to me.” Jean spoke firmly, he was sure of himself. His confidence emerged and hung over me. My gut feeling began to shift.

I felt protected.

Jean dragged me out of the halls and into a closet. Like a raccoon digging through a trash can, he dug through shelves and pulled out paper towels and tape.

“H-Hey, Jean, I know you’re trying to help, but-” Before I could finish my pathetic sentence, he took my fingers and bent them back into shape, awful popping noises surrounding my pounding ear drums. I let out a screech, my fingers throbbing painfully. Jean quickly covered my mouth with his palm, and then taking it off to bandage my pinky with the paper towels and tape. I watched him, kneeling down and fixing up my fingers, and felt myself blush when he looked back up at me with a toothy grin.

“There, see? Never go to the nurses for help when you don’t need it. Come to me.” He said. He was staring into my soul.

“Okay, Joseph?” He said again. I shook myself out of a daze and nodded.

I gave Jean my phone number.

The rest of the day played out smoothly, and finished calmly. I walked home, this time the fog being less thick, grey clouds still above me. I stepped up the stoop to my house heavily, the screen door creaking as I swung it open. I dropped my backpack next to the door, and strode to the fridge for something to eat. I often have to find things to eat myself as my parents usually aren’t around. This time, they’ve been gone for five days, but I can’t complain, they always make sure to leave just enough food to last their outings.

Sitting on my couch, kicking my feet up and holding a bowl of cereal, I lifted up the remote to put something on the tv. I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate, so I dug it out and flipped it open. It was Jean.

Hey man.

I read it a few more times in my mind before deciding what to say next.

Hey

I sent back to him. I didn’t get a response until an hour later.

U busy thursday?

He asked. My fingers started flicking fastly, pressing down on the small buttons of my phones keyboard.

Nah, why?

Ok cool. I’m gonna come by.

A handful of lonely days passed, and I spent my lunch periods with Jean. He didn’t seem to have any other friends, but neither did I.

However, something still didn’t sit well with me deep down. Ever since I began to hang out with Jean, I hadn’t been getting teased. I hadn’t even been looked at by another student.

When Thursday came, Jean decided to give me a ride home, which was much appreciated on my side.

I sat in the front seat of his beat-up silver Corolla, my feet pushing past the trash that laid on the floor of his car. It smelled of vinegar and salt. Jean slid into the driver's seat and pulled down his mirror, fixing his hair. A bit of sun started to show through the clouds, beaming in through the dusty glass window and scattering around Jean and I. Somehow, in the golden rays, Jean actually seemed as if he were handsome all along.

After taking a long look at Jeans features and almost being caught by him, I turned my face back to the dashboard, peering out at the moving scenery. As the car rolled across the bumpy brick road, I heard a faint rattling. At first I ignored it, but it wouldn't end.

“What's that rattling?” I asked, my body wiggling in synchronization with the bumps in the road.

“It's nothing.” He glared at me in the corner of his eyes and I immediately shut up. I drifted back to the dashboard, listening for the rattling. I moved my head forward towards the glove compartment, the rattling sounds getting louder. I felt an abrupt smack on the back of the head.

“Stop.” Jean commanded. I nearly jumped from fright, holding the back of my head.

“What was that for?” I asked softly. I watched my tone. Jean peered between me and the road.

“Don’t touch things that aren’t yours.” He said sternly. His face was so serious, it almost made me burst out laughing from nervousness. I felt an anxious smile appear on my face, and Jean didn’t look happy. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“Fine,” A small smile appeared on his face for a moment, just a few seconds. He opened the glove compartment himself, his boney arm reaching over me and pulling out the drawer. Inside was unexpected, to say the least.

Five medical needles rolled inside of the glove compartment, surrounded by garbage. My eyebrows furrowed.

“What's all that for?” I questioned, looking at the five needles closely before Jean snapped the glove compartment shut.

“I have diabetes.” Jean kept his eyes on the road. He sounded sure of himself, he always did, but somehow I just don’t think he has diabetes.

We pulled up into the my driveway. I eagerly looked out the window to see if my parents had come back, but there was no one. My heart sank a little more. Jean parked and shut off the car, twisting the keys out of the slot. I picked up my bag from next to my feet and got out of Jean’s car, my boots crushing small rocks. The doors made a thud when Jean and I shut them. Jean’s head peeked out from on top of the car. He scanned my quaint house. The wooden boards that held up my home were wet and starting to fall apart, and the roof was eroded from rain and snow. Small, warm puffs of air fell from Jean’s open mouth. I made my way around his car and lead him inside my house.

I kicked off my boots and Jean carefully untied his sneakers, using his palm to slide them off. The interior of my home was plain and had almost nothing. I lead him down the empty hall, passing by my room I had since I was a kid. The door was shut. Jean wouldn’t be able to see that it was empty, except for piles of clothes and a mattress. The room that was supposed to be my parents was empty, and I never had any siblings, so naturally the other two rooms were completely empty as well. The only rooms in my house with anything inside it was my kitchen and the living room. The kitchen had a plastic table and a fridge with plenty of food inside. My living room had a stained couch and a TV on the floor.

The wooden floor creaked as Jean and I sat down in front of the TV, sitting in what was probably the most comfortable thing in my house; my couch. We watched Kitchen Nightmares for a while, making weak jokes about Gordon Ramsay and the way he cleverly insulted a plate of mush. The sun dropped gracefully in the quiet hours we spent bonding over the television. Dust danced around us and I could feel my thoughts pushing back to the front of my head when the TV stopped playing the show. I looked out the window, purple bleeding into golden sunlight rays.

“What time do you have to leave?” I asked. The house seemed so calm without the background noise, and I began to remember that it was just Jean and I in the living room.

“Not anytime soon,” He said, checking his phone which was vibrating violently, “Sorry, I usually get a flood of messages around this time.”

I leaned over and looked at his phone. All of the numbers were different, and they kept flooding in.

“You famous or something?” I giggled and looked up at him.

“You could say that.” He smiled back at me. Jean shoved the phone back into his jeans and stood up.

“Hey, do you wanna run a quick errand with me?” He held a hand out to me, and I grabbed it, Jean lifting me up out from my seat. I pulled my sagging pants up. I nodded.

“Sure, where to?” I answered, Jean starting to make his way to the front of my house. I followed behind him, catching up. I almost slipped, my socks sliding against the wooden floor.

“Just around, it’ll be quick. We might stop by the creek to see my friends.” He opened the screen door, his shoes hanging off of his fingers. We both got into his car and he pulled out. Stars glittered through spotting clouds.

We parked in a nearly empty lot of a small building with a group of grubby men standing and smoking at the corner, the smoke dancing and fading into the fall sky. A flickering, beaten sign at the top of the building read “Korova” in a cheesy, psychedelic font. I’d seen that name before in a movie once, so a smidge of familiarity grazed my mind. Jean got out of the car and strode out to the group of grubby men. He started talking to them before being punched in the face by one of them. He staggered back, holding his forehead, and he turned around. He walked back to the car, one of the men flicking a glowing cigarette butt in his direction.

“What happened?” I worriedly touched my finger on his freshly bruised forehead. He winced.

“This is why parents should’ve beaten their kids more when they were young!” He cried out, his voice cracking. I sat in shock as he breathed heavily, slamming his fists on the wheel.

“Screw this!” He shouted at me, violently getting out of his car. He opened up the door to the back seat and pulled out a baseball bat from underneath the seats and stormed back to the group of men. He swung at one of them, the one that had punched him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. He just kept beating and beating until everyone had scrammed, the man on the cementlying still. Everything in that moment yelled at me to run and get help, but I just sat there as Jean made his way back to the car. We sped away. I held on tightly to my seat.

“What the hell was that?!” I cried.

“Nothing! It was nothing!” He shouted again. I felt tears well up in my eyes. He eventually slowed down. We pulled up to a creek, the relentless dark surrounding us more. I could see a girl and what looked like a shaggy haired guy in the dim headlights. They approached the car and Jean got out, before looking back at me and motioning me to follow him.

“You’ll never guess who just %$@&ed me over!” He shouted to them.

“Oh God, what happened?!” The girl said, long blonde hair gently blowing in the wind. Her skin was fair and her face had sharp cheekbones. She touched his forehead the same way I had. Jean pulled her into a warm embrace.

“It was Jim. He told me he didn’t have my meth right now! I got a little pissed and he punched me! First he and his jackass friends are blowing up my cell, then I take the time to drive over there with this freshmen in my car to tell him to calm the hell down and he punches me right in front of him!” He pointed at me. The two of his friends looked at me.

“Whos this?” They asked in unison. Jean face palmed, wincing again.

“That's Joseph. I met him a few days ago at school and-” he started saying before the shaggy haired boy interrupted him.

“Jean, you seriously brought a freshmen you just met to a meth run?” He said, his head bobbing with the rhythm of his panicked words.

“Uh, I-I’m a sophomore…” I said, my voice too meek to make an impact. They ignored me.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Jean shouted. He bent down and sat on a rock, the two others sitting down next to him. Everything was silent except for the occasional musical chirp of crickets. I leaned against the hood of the car. The girl rubbed Jeans back and pulled out a pipe. The shaggy haired guy put his head in his palms.

“This is the fifth time this happened. I don’t even get that angry! Sure I shout and maybe throw a few fists, but come on!” Jean took the pipe and lit a mound of green at the end of it, taking in smoke. The girl looked over at me and held out a small hand for me to shake.

“Hey, bud. I’m Kacy. That guy over there is Travis.” I took her hand and shook it gently. She had sweet eyes, although they were a tad bit bloodshot. I got off of the hood of the car and sat on the grass with the rest of them.

“I’m Joseph.” I said calmly. Everything was quiet again.

“Jean, I… it’s okay, dude. Nothing happened, it’s alright.” I looked over at Jean affectionately.

“Where are your parents, kid? Why don’t you just go home?” Travis glared at me through his hands.

“I don’t really have any parents. And uh, Jean is my ride home.” I answered nonchalantly. Travis sighed.

“It’s fine, you can stay with us. You seem relaxed enough. Travis just doesn’t take that much of a liking to new people.” Kacy spoke smoothly. She took a hit from the pipe then passed to me. I acted like I had gotten this opportunity before and wrapped my lips around the end of it. Kacy giggled, and Jean looked over at me, laughing with her.

“You’ve never smoked before, have you?” Jean said. I breathed in hard before choking and spitting. They took the pipe out of my hands.

“Okay, no more for you, croaker.” Jean chuckled. I blushed with both embarrassment and admiration.

“So, you don’t have any parents?” Kacy asked. I frowned a bit.

“Yeah, they’re never really around. They prefer to spend their money on traveling and such, and they can use a bigger budget if they didn’t have to pay for a kid and furniture.” I let out a soft laugh to lighten the mood.

“Holy crap! Is that why your house is friggin’ empty?!” Jean’s head perked up. I nodded, laughing a bit more.

“Oh my God! Poor kid!” Kacy squealed. I blushed more.

“That’s exactly why this world needs to pay. I’m tired of it, it’s all relentless and meaningless.” Jean watched soft water trickle through rocks.

“One of these days I’ll show them, heh.”

Jean pulled out his phone and checked the time.

“Ah, we’d better head back, Jo.” He looked up at me. I nodded.

“Aw, alright!” Kacy said adorably. Travis held out his palm to Jean for a high-five, which he reluctantly took. He stood up, and so did I. We got back into his car and with that, the night came to a close.

On our way home, a question arose.

“Hey, should we be worried about that guy? Are like, the police going to get involved?”

“Psh. Please, those guys are constantly tweaking. The police couldn’t help those knuckle heads if they wanted to.” He let out a low chuckle. I laughed with him, the air smooth as it cut in through the open window.

It was about a week from then that my food began to ran out, my parents still missing. My grades started dropping as I spent more and more time with Jean and Kacy, although Travis didn’t really come around anymore since I met him. I only ever saw him giving Jean and I a look from a distance. Wide berth, I told myself. Days were flying by, and although it had only been so long, it was routine that I spent hours with Jean.

I went to school one day, after my food had ran out. I was hungry, dangerously hungry. I sat out in P.E, knowing that even if I tried to run, I’d pass out. That night, Jean was with me and we were ritualistically watching Gordon Ramsay. He asked me something that had stained my mind since.

“Do you ever wonder why your parents don’t come?”

I had always tried to keep that thought as far back into my head as possible. I shuddered. In reality, I often thought about where my parents were. I’d lay in my bed, waiting for sleep to grab me. Out my window, I saw the stars dance among deep gray clouds. I always knew that perhaps they were looking at the same stars as me, maybe even at the exact same time, but even then I thought that they weren’t thinking about me. They were in New York, or Maine, drinking wine in a hot tub or some other romantic activity. By the time I turned twelve, my cultural identity was a single white box with a mattress inside and a towel with a tv on it.

“They didn’t really like that I was going to be a priority when I was born, so they decided to just work around it.” I said, Jean looking upon me with sympathy.

“Plus, they’re pretty pro-life, so abortion was off the table, of course.” I stared at the floor. Jean let out a large guffaw at this.

“Shut the hell up, dude.” He said between chuckles. He leaned in and hugged me, warmth coating me in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. I blushed deeply, and slowly brought my arms around him.

Jean began buying me groceries. I thanked him immensely every time, often with tears in my eyes. Every time I thanked him, he got a little more prideful. He’d pat my head and grin his usual toothy grin, the tips of his canines overlapping.

Eventually, Jean stopped visiting me. He stopped coming to school and Kacy disappeared with him. Thoughts I held in a secret corner of my head started bleeding in more, like water leaking through the crack between the bathroom door and the ground. Jean never responded to my texts. He was gone, out in the world somewhere, like my parents. No reason, though I suspected the same reason as my parents; I stopped being a priority.

I was restless, yet so tired of the hunger for both affection and something to eat. My eyes sunk, hardwood patterns filling my blank expression.

Where did he go? Why did he go? Doesn’t he know that I need him? After all that time? The white box shrunk around me, I began to suffocate in my room. He must know I need him, I have nobody else, no other friends, no parents. Was it a joke? Was our relationship a joke? Of course, how could I ever expect someone like Jean to care, he didn’t care when he beat that man, why would he care? Panic enveloped me. The box shrunk more, my door slowly drifting off. Days passed, school passed. All I had was this white box and a mattress. That's all I need, right? I don’t need him, I could starve, I could stare at the sky, I could empty my life more than I already had. I loved Jean, I loved him, I admit it. He grew and grew on me and when he cut himself off, cut a piece of me off too. Voices louder, louder. It was my voice, my voice was an echo and my throat hurt. The awful sound of silence got noisier and noisier until I was desperately nauseous. I could starve.

My head buzzed, the noise locked in there. My mouth was open, my ribs were against my flesh, as if they were desperate to leave my body, a prison. The school could call my parents, say that I was missing, but they were still gone. The ringing in my ears served as a melody for my thoughts to play along to. The cacophony ceased when my phone vibrated.

Hey

I felt my heart sink. My shaking hand brought my phone up to my face. Anxiety rushed into my abdomen. I couldn’t bring myself to answer it. I put my phone down and closed my eyes. After a few brief moments of what seemed like I was floating in warm water, perhaps the anxiety hopefully fading, I flung up and began to dry heave. The fact that nothing came out only made me wretch more. I stood up in a sudden burst of energy and swung open my bedroom door, and nearly fell into Jean, his phone sitting in his palm. He grinned down at me. I began to sob, still dry heaving as I latched onto Jean. He didn’t lift his arms to hold me, instead standing still, a smile still plastered on his face.

“You’re pathetic.” His raspy voice broke through my sobs.

“You seriously need me to constantly take care of you? Now I know how your parents feel!” My legs shook and I dropped to the ground, kneeling before him. He pat my head.

“You shouldn’t be so needy, Joseph. You’re fifteen, right? When I was your age, I didn’t need my drunk dad and my useless mother to take care of me.” I was confused, so confused. Any hope that my thoughts were just thoughts brutally escaped me. He pushed my head back and looked into my eyes, the same way he had when we met. I could starve.

“Just when you think everything is cozy, it isn’t, right? That’s the way of the world, and it needs to pay, right?” I wondered why, what pushed him to show me.

I couldn’t cry anymore, although I tried. Jean lifted me up, I was light as a feather. He put me back onto the floor, my cold feet touching the wood.

“I don’t understand,” I choked up. “Why are you doing this?”

“You have no identity. It was stolen from you by society.” I stared at his chest. It was true.

“I’m… I’m hungry, Jean…” I muttered, lowering my head.

“I love you.” I choked out. My head was knocked against the door frame by a sudden impact.

“You don’t love me, you just need me.” A chilling voice said.

He took my hand and led me out to his car. He opened the passenger side door, gently pushing me inside. I got in, no strength to really fight. He got into the driver's seat and pulled out a small jar. It was baby food. My head tiredly turned towards him. He held a small spoon and dipped it into the baby food, taking out a scoop and feeding me, pinching my cheeks and shoving the spoon in my mouth. It tasted horrible, yet I ate it. He fed me quietly in the car. I couldn’t tell what time of day it was, I hadn’t been able to for how long already. Slime fell down my dry throat. He threw the jar out of the window, glass shattering on the pavement. He opened the glove compartment and took out a needle. He dug around more and took out the jagged bottom of a Pepsi can filled with a strange liquid. He put the end of the needle in and sucked in. He tenderly took my thin arm and injected me with the liquid. I felt like my arm might snap. I stared out the window, drool dripping from my lips.A cold finger against my chin wiped it off.

A surge of energy overcame me, my heart beating to the rhythm of pure agony. I felt my soul pound through my chest as Jean pulled out of my driveway. My eyes peered into the mirror hanging from the ceiling of the car, and I saw Travis for the first time since I had met him sitting in the back seat with a glare that saw right through me. My mind went pitch black whenever I’d blink, my entire life flashing through my throbbing head for what seemed like an eternity every time. Rage, rage is what filled me. Rage that my parents weren’t here to see this. I saw the white box, my bedroom, the mattress and every time I laid down to stare at the sky. Every day that passed, I laid longer and longer until it was all there was. I slammed my fists against the dashboard, screaming bloody murder for it to stop, and I hated how beautifully Jean looked at the road. My neck jolted back as Travis held my mouth shut from behind the seat with dirty fingers. This was it.

I was dying, I was going to die. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop make it stop until my eyes rolled in their sockets, desperate for arms to grow out of them and hold onto something, to reach for something that wasn’t there. The car swung around corners, people walking with their children and their dogs without a clue of the white box, they were all blurred, long white figures with varying heights. My skull crashed against the window beside me and my chest fell forward, breaking out from Travis’s grip. The car had stopped in front of the school, Jean and Travis exiting the car with haste, Jean nearly ripping me out of my seat. I could starve.

Dragging me along with them, the soles of my boots fraying against gravel, Jean dragged me, a bat in his hand and a crowbar in Travis’s. The front of the school grew larger and larger and my palm was filled with the sting of cold steel, a knife being placed in the center, Jean closing my hand with his. I felt like I now knew what I was doing, I was in control, Jean gave me control and I walked with them confidently in the school, Jean grinning at me. It wasn’t Jean, it was them. It was the school, it was my parents, it was the world.

On the campus, we went through the empty static halls. I was almost brought back in time when I saw the same distant end of the hallway where Jean once stood with me. The cafeteria was moving as if it were a live being on its own. Jean battered the heads of students and Travis crushed bleeding skulls with his crowbar, the screaming of innocent people becoming sane and of utmost importance to me. My knife jabbed into as many as my grabbing hands found. It was loud, so loud. I was going to hell, an invisible arm lurching me forward every time, only for my own to enter someone else's body. Was this what it felt like to be Jean? Was this what humanity was? Was it all exactly how Jean had said?

I closed my eyes, blissfully stabbing into the air until I hit something. The bat had collided with my stomach, my hands, shirt and boots covered in hot blood. Standing above me was Jean, freshly wounded by my knife, a snarling infuriated expression plastered on to him as I mistakenly betrayed him. I became part the the world Jean hated in that moment. The bat met me once more, and everything was black, black, blacker than before.

The silence brought me back to simpler times, I was almost waiting for another episode to play and fill it all.

It was my mistake thinking that I’d be able to just avoid him, not because he was persistent, but because I was desperate.

Looking back at it all doesn’t phase me anymore. I’m an adult, my white box was replaced with a red one with furniture inside. I inherited a new life, a new culture. Although my parents never did come back, I knew that it was alright anyway. I was taken in by a new family after the police discovered me on the floor of Wildwood High’s cafeteria. Explaining everything was painful, but honesty was all I could offer. Jean and Travis got life in prison, I believe, so maybe they could get revenge on the world in there instead. Being forcefully injected with meth was a decent enough excuse to let me walk free, and as years went by the nightmares that taunted me disappeared, and for once I had something in my life that truly taught me something. The agony of the whitebox sailed away in an ocean of tears, my eyes unable to cry anymore, preventing the vast, salty sea from flooding the new city I had built called life.

#poem #poetry #agony of the white box #short story #grunge #read me

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minijenn · 6 years

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Universe Falls Chapter 51

Damn its been almost a month since we’ve had a new UF chapter can ya’ll believe that? Well now we finally have one and its... ok. Kinda short and kinda lackluster but whatever. I need to get back into the swing of things now that I have no distractions holding be back anymore (aside from the ones i put upon myself) but anyway, here ya go. Enjoy!

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/173015479819/universe-falls-chapter-51

Chapter 52: Cry for Help

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With the metaphorical roller coaster ride of events and emotions they had been consistently on for the past several days, Steven, Dipper, and Mabel all readily welcomed a break from this torrent of essentially earth-shattering revelations and aftershocks. However, the “break” that Steven and Mabel had formulated was one that Dipper wasn’t exactly fond of, but was ultimately outnumbered on, which was how he ended up being sandwiched squarely in between the enthusiastic pair as they turned in for the ongoing Crying Breakfast Friends marathon.

All the same, two thirds of the trio were thoroughly enraptured in the depressing escapades of Sniffling Croissant, Sad Pear, and Bawling Bacon all weeping inconsolably over some sort of ‘shocking’ reveal concerning their mysterious family members. “Wow…” Steven mused in amazement in light of this turn in the show. “What a great plot twist! I can’t believe Sniffling Croissant’s dad was actually one of the Angry Lunch Enemies all this time!”

“I know, right?!” Mabel exclaimed, just as stunned. “And that they finally found Sad Pear and Bawling Bacon’s long-lost aunt! It’s like everything’s unraveling all at once and its so crazy! I wonder how everyone is gonna react to all these huge drama bombs!”

“You guys are kidding, right?” Dipper interjected dryly. “Those ‘plot twists’ were totally predictable. I’ve only seen a few episodes of this show and from what I’ve seen, they’ve foreshadowed all that stuff so much that just about anyone could have figured it out from basically the beginning.”

A beat of somewhat awkward silence passed at this callout, until Steven found a silver lining in it and quickly perked up. “Aw, Dipper! You really are invested in Crying Breakfast Friends after all, just like me and Mabel!”

“…Believe me, Steven, I’m really not,” Dipper deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the over the top cartoon on TV.

Not long after this exchange, the temple doors began to open and instantly, all three of the kids directed their attention away from the TV and in that direction instead. After all, none of them had really heard anything from any of the Gems since the return of their apparently tumultuous memories the other day. Suffice to say they were all immensely curious to know both how they were coping with what they had discovered, as well as whatever it was they had remembered in the first place. But given how sensitive of a subject it likely still was for the Gems, the kids knew they were in no position to pry about any of it; the last thing they wanted was to set Garnet, Amethyst, or Pearl off again so soon after the solid ground they once stood on abruptly crumbled apart underneath them.

But still, that didn’t mean the trio didn’t want to know they answers they themselves were still missing even after it was all said and done.

So they watched in somewhat tense silence as Amethyst trudged out of the temple, silent and clearly sullen as she kept her rather embittered gaze downward on her way over to the fridge. She didn’t bother to spare a glance up to the kids on the loft, much less make an effort to speak to them as she dully searched for a snack. The purple Gem’s distracted distance continued only until Steven hesitantly spoke up with a small smile, one that was filled with plenty of concern for Amethyst in light of what had happened just a few days ago.

“Uh… hey, Amethyst,” he greeted with slight uncertainty, exchanging a brief glance with the twins before continuing. “You, uh… you wanna watch Crying Breakfast Friends with us? There’s an all-day marathon going on.”

The purple Gem’s shoulders hitched at the offer, but she didn’t turn to face the trio as she muttered out her response. “Nah… I’m… I’m good…”

“A-are you sure?” Mabel asked, trying to be just as encouraging as Steven. “We’re in the middle of a really good one right now!”

“Not really,” Dipper remarked, though he was quickly corrected by a sudden elbowing from his sister. “Ow! Uh, yeah, I-I mean, it’s really, um… great…”

Amethyst hesitated for another moment or two before finally glancing over her shoulder at the kids, briefly taking in their warm, hopeful expressions before letting out a relenting sigh. “Yeah, alright,” she complied, heading up towards the loft herself before plopping down on the floor in front of the TV. “But only for a little while. I’m sorta… busy dealing with some… stuff.”

None of the kids bothered to ask what that “stuff” might have been, largely since they already had a pretty good guess about it. Even so, another bout of tentative silence took over the room, filled in only by the overdramatic wails of the breakfast characters on screen. But when it was finally broken, Steven was the one to do it, interrupting the show somewhat apprehensively as he addressed the purple Gem on the ground below him.

“Um… Amethyst?” he began, unsure of how to really phrase what he really wanted to ask, so instead, he went in another direction instead. “H-how are you feeling after the whole, um… you know… memory thing that happened the other day?”

“W-what, that whole thing?” Amethyst quickly replied, flinching as she forced a scoff out. “Pfft, I don’t even care about that junk anymore. I-I mean, its really messed up stuff, yeah, but uh… its fine, its whatever. It happened a way long time ago anyway, so its not like it even matters anymore anyway.”

“Uh… no offense, Amethyst, but it sure didn’t seem like it doesn’t matter based on how you guys reacted to getting those memories back in the first place…” Dipper noted truthfully.

“Ugh, well it doesn’t!” the purple Gem snapped, frustrated. “I don’t know about Garnet or Pearl, but I’m over it, so we don’t need to talk about it anymore!”

The kids exchanged a glance, rather doubtful of this claim based on Amethyst’s heated reaction, but none of them were too keen on continuing much further when it came to asking her anything related to the formerly missing memories. After all, it didn’t seem like they’d be getting too far along with the purple Gem when it came to getting answers about them anyway. “Well then, i-if the memory thing isn’t what’s bothering you, then… what does have you so down?” Mabel asked, still wanting to cheer the obviously discouraged purple Gem up.

Amethyst started at this, her eyes growing wide before her cheeks flushed in dark purple embarrassment, which she was quick to play off with another harsh scoff. “N-nothing!” she barked defensively. “Nothing’s got me down, I’m fine! I don’t know why you guys are grilling me with so many questions anyway, I thought you guys just called me up here to watch your weird cartoon with you and-” The purple Gem cut herself off as she nodded towards the TV, only to notice that the program had cut out into loud, bizarre static largely out of nowhere.

“Aw, hey! What’s the big idea?” Mabel asked with a pout. “Steven, did you forget to pay your cable bill or something?”

“My dad’s usually the one who does that, and he’s always pretty on top of getting it paid on time…” Steven mused thoughtfully as he looked to the snowy screen. “But this is pretty weird. It was doing this yesterday too…”

“Well, then maybe its just something wrong with your TV,” Dipper guessed. “Still, its not like you really need to rush to fix it or anything. Its not like we were missing much anyway…” He finished his last statement in a sarcastic mutter, one that Steven and Mabel readily disagreed with.

“Are you kidding, bro-bro? The entire show could be turning itself upside down right now, and all we’re seeing is a bunch of static!” Mabel huffed impatiently. “We gotta figure out a way to fix this!”

“Ugh, hang on, I got it,” Amethyst said as she stood and stepped beside the TV. The purple Gem then proceeded to give it a few soft kicks, though they did little to change the ongoing flow of endless static. “How about now?” she asked, glancing to the TV herself. She jumped back in surprise, however, as the static suddenly shifted, the television itself vibrating wildly as an unintelligible bout of odd gibberish began bursting from it.

“I-it’s never done that before,” Steven remarked, keeping a close eye on the screen along with the twins to see what might happen next. Soon enough, the screen soon changed again as an image gradually began to take shape upon it along with a voice. And as soon as both of these things became clear and distinguishable, the entire group present let out a startled gasp upon seeing exactly what, or rather who was interrupting the scheduled programming.

“This is Peridot,” the green Gem began with her prerecorded message, her manner clearly aggravated and rather frantic as she continued. “Transmitting on all frequencies from abandoned Crystal System colony planet Earth, to Yellow Diamond. My mission has been compromised; my escort and escapee informant are gone and I am now stranded! Please send help!” With this desperate plea, the message repeated itself, with Peridot once again making her anxious appeal to the mysterious Yellow Diamond. Based on this alone, it took almost no deliberation between Amethyst and the kids for them to reach the decision to call Garnet and Pearl out of the temple so they could this troubling transmission. And upon hearing it for themselves, both of the other Gems were quick to place their own lingering remorse from their recalled memories aside, just as Amethyst had, for the sake of the brand new problem at hand.

“I don’t get it…” Mabel remarked, aptly confused as they all watched Peridot’s message over again. “Why would anyone give Peridot her own weird commercial? It’s not like she really has the kind of personality meant for television.”

“She probably just took over the airwaves, Mabel,” Dipper remarked, rolling his eyes as he cast another disdainful glare at the Gem on TV. “Though who knows how she managed to do that. I guess she might be smarter than we give her credit for. Maybe.”

“Doubt it,” Garnet said, her manner stoic as she rose to properly stand.

“Ok, thanks,” Steven finished his conversation on the phone before hanging up and addressing the others. “Connie says its on her TV too.”

“But where could Peridot be broadcasting a signal that strong?” Pearl asked with a concerned frown.

“There’s only one place,” Garnet said, taking in a deep, resolved breath before looking to her uncertain teammates. “Amethyst, Pearl. I know a lot has happened these past few days. And even more has changed as a result of everything we’ve learned. But… despite it all, its time we pull ourselves together and get back to doing what we do best: protecting the Earth from anyone who wants to harm it, including Homeworld. Now,” the Gem leader paused her bold, reassuring, and inspiring speech as she gracefully hopped down from the loft, putting on a small, somewhat unreadable smile as she looked up to the group still gathered above and encouraging them to follow. “Let’s get going. We have a transmission to interrupt and certain green Gem’s plans to thwart.”

The warp pad to the Gem communication hub located far off in the distant desert had been destroyed near the beginning of the summer courtesy of Sugilite. This meant that the only way the Gems and the kids could get there was on Lion, which was a pretty cramped ride, even as the pink beast roared a temporal portal there from Gravity Falls. Still, the night air was cool and crisp as they all arrived, Lion quickly plopping down in exhaustion underneath them as they all disembarked from his back. “Lion, are you ok?” Steven asked with concern, giving his faithful pet a comforting pat on the head as he allowed him some rest.

At the same time, Dipper and Mabel let out a simultaneous gasp of awe as they got their first glimpse of the towering communication hub before them, a Gem locale neither of them had been to since they had not been present for the Gems’ previous venture there. “Whoa… this place is amazing!” Dipper exclaimed, already immensely curious about it as he took a step closer. “I can’t believe something like this just… exists in the middle of the desert like this! What’s it for?”

“Well, it used to be used to transmit messages between the Earth and Homeworld…” Pearl began her brief explanation before Amethyst interjected.

“Before we busted it up a few weeks ago, just like we do with all of Homeworld’s old junk they got lying around here,” she remarked, playfully punching her hand and ignoring the white Gem’s exasperated huff.

“Well… it doesn’t look so busted up now…” Mabel noted, glancing back towards the hub.

“No, it doesn’t…” Garnet agreed, looking up to the tall beam of light emitting from the top of the tower up into the clouds above. “It’s as I feared…”

“Peridot must have somehow repaired the communication hub…” Pearl ventured with a frown as she surveyed the haphazard job the green Gem had apparently done. “Well, at least some of it. I suppose we really did underestimate her…”

“So… we just gotta wreck it up again, right?” Steven asked before letting out an excited gasp of recollection as he looked between Garnet and Amethyst. “You guys should form Sugilite!”

At this suggestion, Dipper adamantly shook his head, remembering well the aforementioned fusion’s violent rampage several weeks ago. “Uh, Steven, that might not be the best-”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Mabel interjected brightly. “I didn’t get to meet Sugilite the last time around and I’ve always wanted to see how super tough and strong she is! Can you guys form her? Please, please please?!”

While Garnet didn’t provide much of a reaction, especially when compared to Pearl’s expression of silent fear, Amethyst smiled awkwardly, stretching casually as she cast a glance over at the Gem leader hopefully. “Er, y-yeah, well… its up to Garnet, I guess…” she said, a hint of anxiousness in her tone, one that was mingled with a certain amount of eagerness as well. “W-what do you say, G? Shall we mash it up…?”

“No,” Garnet staunchly replied, instantly shutting the purple Gem’s already wavering hopes down before they could even try to grow.

“B-but… don’t we need to be huge like last time?” Amethyst asked, her expression falling as she thought of the practically countless reasons for such a rejection. Reasons that were all rooted in things she had done and mistakes she had made.

“Last time was a disaster,” Garnet said, her tone steady and calm. “Last time we fused, Sugilite went berserk. Its because of her that we can’t even warp here anymore, not to mention how we nearly took out all those manotaurs.” The Gem leader paused, sighing softly as she took her shades off and looked down to the disheartened purple Gem sympathetically. “I can be brash, and you can be reckless. And we can both get carried away. So for the time being,” Garnet put her shades back on, her authority on the matter clear as Amethyst saw her reflection in them. “Sugilite is benched.”

“O-oh… yeah… o-ok…” Amethyst let out a sad sigh of acceptance, averting Garnet’s gaze out of shame as she knew that certainly wasn’t all there was to it. Certainly, the Gem leader wouldn’t say it out loud while the wound was still so fresh, but the purple Gem believed that her foolish, senseless bout of rebellion against the team before that portal just a few short days ago had everything to do with this. A rebellion that she could feel nothing but regret for now that it had all but ruined whatever trust the Gem leader might have once held for her.

“What we need now…” Garnet continued, turning to Pearl, who up until that point, had been standing off to the side in silent observation. “Is to be careful.” While Steven and Mabel let out a shared gasp of excited realization at this, Pearl starkly froze, her eyes wide with surprise and wonder as Garnet placed a hand on her shoulder and offered her a bold grin. “It’s you and me, Pearl. Let’s fuse.”

Upon hearing this offer, tears immediately welled up in the white Gem’s eyes, a huge smile claiming her features, perhaps the first one she had worn since recovering her lost memories. Garnet’s smile faded upon watching Pearl let out a choked, joyous sob, her formerly calm manner completely compromised for happiness and elation she couldn’t hope to contain. “Don’t cry, Pearl,” the Gem leader advised and the white Gem complied, sucking her tears in as she nodded, her lip still quivering all the while. “Come on, let’s do this.”

“I-I’m right behind you!” Pearl readily exclaimed, hurrying after Garnet as she claimed a wide open space for them to preform their fusion dance in.

“Woo-hoo!” Steven cheered, rushing ahead as well to watch as Mabel quickly followed, joining in his excited chanting. “Fusion! Fusion! Fusion!”

“Huh. You know, its pretty weird that its taken us this long to see Pearl and Garnet fuse,” Dipper noted inquisitively. “What’s their fusion even like?”

“Oh believe me,” Amethyst huffed, crossing her arms as she begrudgingly joined the group. “You’re sure as heck about to find out…”

A bright glow sparked through Garnet’s gemstones as she smirked, putting aside all thoughts of painful memories or frightening revelations as she looked to Pearl with renewed confidence. “I’m ready.”

“H-hang on!” Pearl quipped, hurriedly stretching herself out as she continued buzzing with obvious excitement. “It’s been such a long time…” The white Gem’s smile deepened as he own gemstone began to glow, and with an elegant bow, their fusion dance began. The entire thing was slow and elegant, with both Gems slowly, smoothly strutting towards one another. The group on the sidelines watched as the pair met, Pearl linking her arms with Garnet as she stood in front of her, both of their expressions intimate, seductive almost. And then, in a movement so fluid that it barely even registered, the Gem leader suddenly lifted her partner up as though she weighed nothing at all, tossing her incredibly high up into the air in a daring, deft maneuver. The kids jaws’ collectively dropped as Pearl preformed a midair spin high above them, before spreading herself wide, a smile still bright on her face as gravity began to pull her back down towards Garnet’s outstretched arms. The moment she landed, the bright glow of an oncoming fusion enveloped them both, their combining forms steadily growing in size as they reshaped and united. The white light soon turned into a pale orange sheet, the silhouette of a new being appearing behind it until she broke that curtain of light herself.

“Gooooooooood evening, everybody!” the new fusion bombastically declared as she made her debut. Her appearance was surprising to say the least; like most of the Gems’ fusions, she was tall, roughly about 30 or so feet in height as she stood with an air of elegance and self-importance. Her attire and mannerisms carried an air of natural showmanship to them, with a stately black tailcoat and leotard, dark leggings, and a large, bright orange bowtie. Her skin was a deep shade of vermillion, her short, rounded, somewhat triangular hair pale orange, and the rounded shades covering both sets of her bright, expressive eyes dark pink and transparent in coloration. Aside from an extra pair of eyes, the fusion also sported two pairs of arms, one from her poofed sleeves and the other from her slender torso, each of them bearing a pair of long white gloves. The fusion’s effervescent, toothy grin widened even moreso as she caught sight of her captivated audience, which she didn’t hesitate to saunter forward to cheerfully greet. “This is the lovely Sardonyx, coming to you live from the soon-to-be-former communication hub! How are ya’ll doin’ tonight?”

“Greaaaat…” Amethyst deadpanned, far from fond of Garnet and Pearl’s rather over the top fusion.

The kids, on the other hand, were completely awestruck by her, Steven and Mabel in particular as they met her appearance with huge matching grins of excitement. “Giant woman!” the young Gem exclaimed, stars in his eyes as he craned his neck up to look at the massive fusion.

“Oh my stars!” Sardonyx exclaimed, putting three of her large hands down in front of the kids and silently beckoning them to hop on. While Mabel and Steven readily did so, Dipper was somewhat more hesitant, though even so, he climbed onto one of them before the fusion raised all three of the kids up to her level. “If it isn’t Steven Universe, Dipper Pines, and Mabel Pines, all in the flesh! We finally meet. So, what do you think?” Sardonyx smirked as she spun her torso completely around, the arms connected to it somehow remaining in place as she preformed this surprising illusion. “Was I worth the wait? What am I saying? Of course I was! Ohohohoh!”

The fusion’s excitable laughter echoed throughout the desert, eliciting similar chuckles from all three of the kids, though Amethyst refused to join in on the merriment from her spot on the ground. “Oh my gosh, Sardonyx, you’re so funny!” Mabel quipped, bouncing up and down on her heels on the fusion’s large palm. “And so stylish too! I love your bow tie!”

“Oh, why, thank you, Mabel darling!” Sardonyx beamed happily, using her free hand to adjust the aforementioned bow. “It really is quite the trendsetter, isn’t it? Then again, I’m really quite the trendsetter in general, so its not that surprising, is it?”

Mabel let out an amused chuckle at this, thoroughly charmed by the fusion’s apt sense of humor. “Nope! I guess its not!” she laughed, Sardonyx briefly joining in before Dipper interjected.

“Hey, so uh…” he began somewhat awkwardly as he caught the fusion’s attention. “Just a quick question: are you guys always so… theatrical when you’re fused?”

“Theatrical! Now there’s a million-dollar word!” Sardonyx exclaimed with a dramatic gasp of amazement. From there, the fusion suddenly caught Dipper off guard by pulling his hat off his head by the brim with just a single finger, playfully grinning back down at him as she spun it casually upon said finger. “And what an absolutely perfect one to refer to someone as showstopping as I am! Of course, I would expect nothing less from someone as well-read as you, Dipper. Excellent observation, as usual!”

“Oh, w-well, uh-” Dipper was interupted as Sardonyx suddenly returned his hat to him, and at this, he couldn’t really hold back something of a bashful grin as the fusion offered him a proud wink of approval. “Heh, thanks.”

“But of course,” Sardonyx chimed as warmly as ever.

“Wow, Sardonyx,” Steven mused, stars still in his eyes as the fusion looked over at him. “You’re so articulate!”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little charmer!” Sardonyx gushed, playfully and gently pinching the young Gem between the fingers of her free hand as he laughed brightly. “I could literally squish you right now. It would not be hard!”

“Ah, n-no!” Steven chuckled, loosely wriggling out of her grip before the fusion pulled all three of the kids a bit closer to her face.

“Sorry,” she laughed herself with a zealous smile. “I’m just so excited to be here! You see, I haven’t exactly been myself lately. Ohohohoh!”

The kids were all quick to understand Sardonyx’s playful quip and join in on her laughter as she gently set them back down on the ground. “Ha! Fusion joke!” Steven chuckled, glancing back over at Amethyst, who simply groaned in aggravation as she averted the fusion’s attention.

Still, Sardonyx hardly payed her any mind anyway as she once again rose to her full, towering height, a coy grin still playing on her features. “And jokes aren’t the only thing I’ve got,” she began, the gem on her forehead flashing as Pearl’s spear emerged from it. The fusion caught it with one hand, though one of her lower ones tapped her on the shoulder, momentarily ‘distracting’ her. “Hm?” Sardonyx kept her act up as she tossed her spear high into the air, gasping in faux surprise at its disappearance until it came back down towards her. The fusion grinned daringly as Garnet’s gauntlets formed over both her hands, and as the spear approached her, Sardonyx punched her fists together on the lithe weapon, forming an entirely new one altogether: a massive, powerful hammer.

“Whoa…” Dipper mused in amazement at this display as Mabel let out a squeal of elated excitement. “That’s… so cool!”

“Cool is only the tip of the iceberg,” Sardonyx playfully remarked, spinning her hammer as she slung it over her shoulder. “An iceberg that, much like the troublesome hub that stands before us, is about to be completely raised, right along with your expectations.”

“Are you gonna smash stuff with your giant war hammer?” Steven asked the fusion in immense curiosity.

“Hm…” Sardonyx thoughtfully paused. “‘Smash’ is the word one would use to describe what… someone else might do.” Upon hearing this, Amethyst couldn’t help but let out another disgruntled sigh, knowing that this very pointed remark was clearly aimed at both her and the fusion she shared with Garnet. One that couldn’t have been any different from the one that was currently present. “Now,” Sardonyx continued, taking a high, graceful leap into the air, her hammer in tow as she pounced towards the communication hub. “The proper words to describe yours truly are… specific!” The fusion shouted boldly as her hammer swung down on one of the pillars, knocking it out of alignment as she plunged through the gap it had made to tackle another one. “Intelligent!” Her hammer landed once more, taking over several columns at once. “Accurate!” She proved this claim by hitting one of the pillars perfectly before launching herself over the hub. “Faultless!” Sardonyx continued as she took a high leap into the air, a beaming grin upon her face as she sailed through the air in front of the moon. “Elegant…” As more pieces of the hub fell, the fusion continued her list, each descriptive word punctuating another hit of her dependable hammer. “Controlled! Surgical! Graceful! Theatrical,” she flashed a bright grin down at the kids, who all cheered her on in light of this cordial shout-out. Even so, Sardonyx took a grand leap up to the very top of the hub, preforming an impressive flip as she claimed her upmost perch. “Aaaaaand…. Powerful!” She stopped her hammer right before it could land upon the most essential pillar, her manner turning thoughtful once more as she finished her ongoing proclamation. “But yes, occasionally, I am known… to smash.”

With a single, almost gentle tap from the end of the fusion’s hammer, the primary column came crashing down, the light emitting from the hub instantly going dark as Peridot’s message ceased its transmission. The kids’ unanimously applauded Sardonyx’s impressive preformance as the fusion easily landed before them once more, none of them noticing Amethyst’s bitter ongoing pout. “Now, just remember, everybody,” Sardonyx said, spinning her hammer out before it disappeared in a burst of glittering dragonflies. “If you ever have need of the lovely Sardonyx again, just let Pearl and Garnet know. I’ll be there in a flash,” the fusion grinned jokingly once more as she lowered herself down to her audience’s level before taking her leave. “Literally!”

In a burst of light and dragonflies, Sardonyx disappeared, leaving Garnet and Pearl intimately holding each other in her place. In the aftermath of their fusion, the pair of Gems took pause, looking to each other with wide eyes briefly before they both simultaneously exploded into a burst of absolute elation and cheer. Before they even exchanged any words at all, they burst out into a shared gale of warm laughter, especially as Garnet picked Pearl up and easily spun her around in a round of delighted victory. In that moment, after such a round of triumphant fusion and mission execution, thoughts of dark, disturbing, newly-remembered memories couldn’t have been the furthest thing from either of their minds. The pain and woe of the past several days seemed to have evaporated into nothingness, taken away by the uplifting, exciting experience they had just had the privilege of sharing together. And given that this was the happiest the kids had seen any of the Gems since the portal incident, they were all more than eager to join in on this celebration.

“Woo!” Steven cheered as him, Dipper, and Mabel ran up to the ecstatic pair. “You guys, that was great!”

“Yeah!” Mabel readily agreed. “I always hoped you guys’ fusion would be awesome, but Sardonyx was even more awesome than I could have imagined!”

“O-oh, really?” Pearl smiled with a warm, flustered blush. “Well, that’s good!”

“We were awesome!” Garnet proclaimed with a bold flair, eliciting shared laughter from the others.

“I’d say we were,” the white Gem’s grin widened upon hearing such adulation from the Gem leader herself. “Why don’t we do that more often?”

While the others continued happily praising Sardonyx’s most recent ‘preformance’, no one really noticed as Amethyst intentionally hung back from the group, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she turned away with a disappointed sigh. She had never really been too fond of the bombastic, prideful fusion to begin with, but in light of recent events, she couldn’t help but feel even more disdain towards her than usual. But really, Amethyst knew that her bitterness didn’t completely lie with Sardonyx; a large portion of it was reserved for herself, for the foolish, reckless, borderline stupid decisions she had made. To go overboard with Garnet during Sugilite’s last appearance, to take Stan’s side over her teams’, to even go as far as to physically oppose them all because of a feeling and little else. A feeling that, in the aftermath of it all, had only brought her perhaps more shame than she had ever even known before.

Shame that seemed to tower over her, just like the showstopping fusion she always seemed to stand in the shadow of.

Given that Crying Breakfast Friends had an effective plethora of episodes, its marathon continued over the course of several days, and to avoid any further possible broadcast interruptions, Steven and Mabel had opted to continue watching it down at the Mystery Shack instead of the temple. In doing so, they managed to rope both Dipper and Stan into joining them, and while they weren’t too keen on watching the bizarrely depressing cartoon, but unfortunately neither of them were able to think of any good excuses to get out of it. So the group congregated in the den, which was still somewhat in shambles from the portal incident and the government invasion a few days prior, to watch the show with varying levels of interest.

“Why won’t you say thank you?!” Grumpy Pancake wailed somewhat angrily to Glum Glass, who answered in an expectantly mournful manner.

“B-because! I don’t know how!”

“Aww…” Mabel mused with a sympathetic frown. “Poor Pancake! He just wants to feel appreciated for all his hard work!”

“Yeah, but I can see Glass’ point too…” Steven said thoughtfully. “That’s just the thing with this show! All of its characters are so realistic and relatable!”

“You guys do realize you’re talking about a pancake and a cup here… right?” Dipper asked rather sardonically.

“Yeesh, I can’t believe you kids are actually into this sappy show,” Stan remarked just as dryly. “This thing is so far out there that it puts the cartoons that me and Ford used to watch when we were kids about animals beating each other over the heads with mallets to shame.”

“Oh yeah, how is Mr. Ford?” Steven asked, glancing away from the TV with newfound concern. “He seemed like he was really worried about the Gems the other day after they, uh… um… a-after they got their memories back and everything…”

“Pfft,” Stan scoffed, rolling his eyes at the mention of his brother. “Heck if I know. Sixer’s holed himself down in the basement for the past several days, probably working on some sort of nerd project or something. He’s barely even come up here at all and anytime he does he’s all mopey and depressed, acting like I didn’t just rescue him from some sort of nightmare dimension, the ungrateful jerk.”

“Aw, Grunkle Stan, you don’t mean that!” Mabel protested. “You and Grunkle Ford are brothers! You two love each other, just like me and Dipper do!” At this, she startled her brother by wrapping a playful arm around his shoulder, though unlike a few days ago, he didn’t push it away this time.

“…Kid, me and Ford aren’t as… uh… w-well, we used to be… um… ugh… never mind…” the conman let out a sigh of defeat, glancing away from the kids almost remorsefully. And, before any of them could pursue the unsavory manner any further, Stan quickly changed the topic to something a bit more manageable. “Uh, s-so anyway, how are the Gems doing? I heard that whole memory thing was… kinda rough for them.”

“Actually, they seemed mostly ok yesterday,” Dipper pointed out.

“Yeah, we went to the communication hub in the desert and Garnet and Pearl fused into Sardonyx and she took the entire thing out with her huge hammer!” Steven explained with a bright smile. “You should have seen it, Mr. Pines! It was incredible!”

“Sardonyx?” Stan questioned, raising an eyebrow before letting out a huff of a scoff. “That over the top broad? Yeesh, it’s been a while since I’ve heard anything about her.”

“Wait, Grunkle Stan, you’ve met Sardonyx before?” Dipper asked, rather surprised at this.

“No, but I’ve heard plenty about her from Amethyst,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “Any time Garnet and Pearl turned into her, she would to vent to me about how pompous and annoying she was. Always seemed to be a sore subject for her if ya ask me, but what the heck do I know about all that Gem drama anyway? Seems like every other day those three are-” The conman suddenly stopped short upon noticing that all three of the kids were looking to him with concerned confusion, prompting him to realize he was treading on rather uncomfortable ground in light of recent events. So once again, Stan diverted away from the matter, even if he did want to discuss it further, just in a different way. “Hey, uh, I-I just remembered, I need to grab something from the kitchen,” he said casually enough as he rose from his chair. “One of you kids wanna lend me a hand?”

“Sure, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel volunteered with a smile. “I’ll-”

“No, not you,” Stan quickly rejected, much to his niece’s confusion. “You,” he snapped his fingers as he pointed at Steven instead. “Come on.”

“Oh, uh, ok,” Steven got up, somewhat confused, though he still followed Stan into the kitchen nonetheless. “So, what do you need help with, Mr. Pines?”

Stan paused, taking a beat to briefly glance back at the den, where the twins were still apparently distracted by the TV, before getting to the matter at hand. “I need you to tell me how Amethyst’s really doing,” he said, trying to act as disinterested as possible and coming across as anything but.

“Huh?” Steven frowned, caught off guard by this somewhat strange request.

“Ugh, listen, kid,” Stan began with an exasperated sigh. “Ever since the whole portal thing, Amethyst’s barely said a word to me. I know she’s pi—ticked off with me for keeping all of it a secret from her for all these years and I understand why, but whenever she gets mad at me, she’s usually pretty quick to get over it and move on. But this time is… different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she hasn’t even come down here to rant to me about this whole Sardonyx thing!” the conman exclaimed, somewhat frustrated as he began to pace. “I’m usually the first person she comes to to blow off steam with, especially about something like this, or heck, even that memory thing, but she hasn’t and it—it’s just… ugh, forget it!” Stan let out another aggravated groan as he slammed a hand down on the counter hard as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly upset.

Steven was silent for a moment upon seeing the conman’s outburst, concern filling his expression as he glanced down thoughtfully before tentatively speaking up. “You’re… worried about her… aren’t you?” Stan didn’t turn around or even offer a verbal response, but the way his shoulders hitched at this question was more than enough to give the young Gem his answer. “Mr. Pines, if you’re really worried about Amethyst, why don’t you just go up to the temple and talk to her yourself?”

“Because between you and me, kid, I’m probably just about the last person Amethyst wants to talk to right now,” Stan muttered, clear shame in his tone as he finally turned to face the young Gem. “B-but whatever, its fine. I’m sure everything will work out, j-just like it always does…” The conman’s already thin layer of confidence wavered as he turned to head back into the den, a small, defeated sigh escaping him as he spared not another word. After all, what could he really say to explain just how much guilt and regret he had felt ever since that confrontation in the portal room days ago?

However, before he could escape back into the den, Steven hesitantly stopped him. “M-Mr. Pines, wait, I-” The young Gem stopped short, part of him wanting to continue on this tangent concerning Amethyst, though he ended up acting on another part of himself instead. “Y-you… Did you know?”

“Uh… know what?” Stan turned, genuinely confused as he looked back at Steven.

The young Gem paused, faltering as he looked to his feet and remembered the glass tube resting so innocently inside of Lion’s mane, the Gems’ reactions to regaining every painful memory they had lost. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear the admittance of the bitter truth from yet another adult he genuinely trusted, but if that truth was there at all, then Steven had to know. “M-my… my mom took the Gems’ memories about Mr. Ford and the portal from them…” he said, his voice so quiet that it was practically a whisper. “I still don’t know why she did it, but… it hurt them. She hurt them… And I… I just was wondering if you ever… knew anything about that…”

Stan was quiet for a moment upon hearing this, his expression softening as he happened to notice the tears starting to well up in Steven’s eyes. For a brief moment, the conman didn’t really know what to say to help ease the young Gem’s obvious pain; so instead, he did the easiest thing he could: he told the truth. “I… No, I didn’t know,” he said, a hand placed against back of his neck as he glanced to the side. “But… to be honest, its… kinda not that surprising to hear. No offense to you, kid, but your mom… she was… shady, to say the least.”

“Tell me about it…” Steven muttered, rubbing his arm as he let out a wavering sigh. “Mr. Pines, I… I think I get it now. Why you never liked my mom that much, I mean. All you wanted to do was save your brother… You never wanted to hurt anyone. But my mom… she hurt so many people… Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Mr. Ford… and you.” The tears welling up in the young Gem’s eyes finally reached their tipping point as they finally fell, a tight, pained sob escaping him, one that he had been holding back ever since he had first come across that memory tube. “And… I’m so, so sorry about what she did, Mr. Pines. I know she thought she was doing the right thing, but she wasn’t and no one even knew and Mr. Ford could have died in there, but it was like she didn’t even care and she didn’t even see how much you missed him and wanted him back, and I’m so sorry that she-”

“Whoa, kid, hold on!” Stan interupted, unable to hide his concern as he unceremoniously knelt down to Steven’s level. “What the heck are you apologizing for?”

“F-for what my mom did…” Steven sniffled, weakly wiping a few tears from his cheek.

“For what your mom did…” Stan repeated with a knowing nod, his expression conveying that he understood, at least on some level, what the young Gem was feeling. “Not anything you did. You know, kid—I mean… Steven,” The conman let out a sympathetic sigh as he placed a hand on the morose young Gem’s shoulder. “Your mom was no saint. From what I’ve seen and from what I’ve heard, she screwed up a lot. But I’m not lying when I tell you that nothing that she did was your fault. I don’t blame you for any of this mess, I’m pretty sure the Gems don’t blame you for any of it, and Ford better not blame you for any of it, because if he does, I’ll knock him senseless. Same goes for anyone else who tries to pin any of the nonsense Rose caused on you.”

Steven paused, rather overwhelmed by everything the conman had just said as his tears continued silently falling. “B-but… but Mr. Pines, I-”

“But nothing,” Stan interjected, shaking his head as he tightened his secure, almost comforting grip on the young Gem’s shoulder. “I know what it feels like to carry that kinda blame around, but the difference between you and me when it comes to blame is that I deserve it. You don’t. And you better stop thinking that you do, otherwise I’ll sic Mabel and her aggressive positivity on you.”

Steven was unable to hold back a laugh at this, one that was filled with a type of relief that he hadn’t felt in quite some time. While he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hold onto what the conman had just assured him of, namely the idea that he held no guilt in the mistakes his mother had made, he still wanted to believe that nonetheless. And, perhaps with a little time and a little effort, it was something that he could come to believe. Eventually.

Even so, in light of his newfound happiness, Steven ended up startling Stan by launching himself towards the conman in a sudden, warm embrace. Stan flinched, caught off guard by the burst of affection, though he was even more surprised by what the young Gem said next. “Thanks, Mr. Pines,” Steven whispered, tears drying on his cheek amidst his genuine, gentle smile.

For a moment or two, Stan allowed this unexpected hug to continue, recognizing that the young Gem likely needed this and realizing that in a way, maybe he needed it too after the events of the past several days. Still, the conman had to keep up appearances, hence why he didn’t let this embrace linger for too long, regardless of admittedly how welcome it was. “Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Stan remarked with faux exasperation as he pulled away and stood. “I swear, kid, you’re about as schmaltzy as that soppy cartoon you’re so into.”

Steven let out another small chuckle at this, but before he could, they were interupted by Dipper and Mabel as they briefly stuck their heads into the kitchen. “Uh, Steven?” Mabel began with an anxious frown. “You might wanna see this.”

Everyone returned to the living room to find a sight that all three of the kids found to be disconcertingly familiar: the TV’s normal signal had cut out, replaced nothing but noisy, blank static. An all-too familiar echo of what had dominated the air waves the previous day. “It’s the signal again!” Steven exclaimed, aptly surprised.

“Peridot must still be trying to get in touch with Homeworld,” Dipper mused with a resolved scowl. “But how’d she manage to fix that communication tower so quickly?”

“Well, one thing’s for certain,” Mabel said with a grown smile. “No matter how many times she puts it back together again, there’s one fusion we can count on to smash it to pieces! Let’s go get the Gems!”

“Yeah!” the boys readily agreed, the three of them starting to head out to go to the temple. However, Steven stopped short near the door, even after the twins had already gone through it, pausing briefly to glance back at Stan. The conman didn’t say anything as he stood near the static-filled TV, his hands on his hips as he watched the kids go. He did, however, spare Steven a bit of a wry, yet reassuring smile and nod, almost as if to solidify the newfound solidarity between them. Solidarity the young Gem couldn’t help but deeply appreciate in light of how almost everything he thought he knew had been so harshly uprooted as of late. Which was why he returned the conman’s smile before going on his way, hoping to hold onto the thought that no real blame rested with him someday.

Even if that day wasn’t quite today.

As soon as the kids made it to the temple and reported the signal’s return to the Gems, they all collectively set out back to the communication hub, knowing that they had to put a stop to Peridot’s plans before they could ever hope to come to fruition. With the hub obviously repaired, there was little deliberation amongst the group (save for a small, relatively unnoticed sigh of disappointment from Amethyst) to bring Sardonyx back to break the tower apart once more.

“I hope you’re ready,” Garnet smirked as she stood apace from Pearl, beckoning her forward as the kids and Amethyst stood on the sidelines to watch once more.

“You know I am,” Pearl grinned as she finished stretching out before emerging into an elegant pirouette, dancing Garnet’s way before they met, just as they had the previous night. And, just like last night, the warm glow of fusion surrounded the pair and from that glow, Sardonyx rose to the occasion once more.

“What’s this?” the bombastic fusion asked with faux surprise upon breaking her curtain of light once again. “An encore performance? Just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” She smirked down at the group below before breaking out into her iconic uproarious laughter. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let the show begin!” And with this proclamation, Sardonyx boldly leapt into action, her hammer materializing in her hands as she pounced for the tower and got to work tearing it apart. The kids were more than ready to cheer the showstopping fusion on once more, though their excitement was soon broken through as they heard Amethyst’s dejected sigh right behind them. The purple Gem didn’t notice as all three of the kids turned towards her in confusion, her back turned to them as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. And then, as she looked back up towards the hub, or more specifically, towards the graceful fusion deftly breaking it to pieces, she did the only thing she really could think of to finally let some of her heavy, ever-accumulating emotions go: she sang.

“Maybe you’re better off with her,” Amethyst began, her melody and manner both sad as she hunched her shoulders away from the tower. “I think she’s better for you.”

This was a truth the purple Gem knew she couldn’t really deny as she looked towards Sardonyx once more, realizing just how level-headed, just how skillful, just how stable the fusion was compared to the wild, rowdy, out of control, Sugilite. Just another bitter reminder for Amethyst that when compared to Pearl or even Garnet, she was always, always the odd one out, the runt of the litter, the mistake.

“I forgot how great it felt to be us,” she continued, closing her eyes as she tried to recall that feeling. That strength, that power, that freedom she felt any time she fused with Garnet. They were all things that she cherished, things that she valued, more than the Gem leader likely even knew. But now, because she had taken them all for granted and had been reckless and foolish, she wasn’t sure when she’d ever get to experience those things again. “Guess I got… carried away…”

“I had to use you to make me feel strong, but I don’t care about that now,” And indeed, she didn’t. Because what had happened with Sugilite was already dead and buried in the past. What wasn’t buried, however, was a slight far worse than the unruly fusion’s outburst. A brash, dangerous choice she had made in the heat of the moment, an act of rebellion so momentous and so uncalled for that she doubted her teammates would ever really forgive her for it. And as far as she was concerned, maybe forgiveness wasn’t something she deserved for her actions before that wretched portal in the first place. “I see a tower built out of my mistakes,” she sang, fighting to hold back tears as she watched Sardonyx dismantle the physical tower rising high before her, wishing that she was strong enough to tear her own shadowy tower apart herself. “And it all comes crashing down…”

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her hands in tight fists at her sides as she wished she could take it all back. She wished she could undo the past, that she could fix what she had broken, that she could rise above the faults she constantly seemed to be drowning in.

“Is there something I can do?” she sang again, practically begging for something she knew she’d never get. Because when it came right down to it, her actions in that portal room weren’t something she could blame on Stan or Ford or even Rose. They had been solely her own. And of course, that only made the sting of their consequences even worse.

“Is there something I can do?” she pined one more time, knowing that it was hopeless. There was nothing she could do. Nothing to undo her mistakes, nothing to regain her teammate’s trust, nothing to be any more than what she had always known herself to be: a failure.

“Can I make it up to you?” she finished with a solemn sigh of defeat as Sardonyx finished her work, landing before the dimmed tower triumphantly before disappearing in a flash. She turned her back on Garnet and Pearl as they shared a warm, harmonious laugh over their second victory together, a victory that she knew she’d never get to share. No, instead, the only thing she’d get to have was the heavy, suffocating weight of her mistakes, bearing down on her brutally and crushingly, just like they always did.

Or so she thought. For while Amethyst had poured her heart out through song, she failed to notice the trio that had served as her audience rather than Sardonyx’s. And despite how much they enjoyed the dramatic fusions’ theatrics, they all unanimously sympathized with the purple Gem. After all, it was clear from her song and her reactions to Sardonyx alone that she was feeling left out, excluded from her team to the point that it made her feel devalued and unimportant. In light of everything else that the Gems had gone through lately, that alone made all three of them want to do anything they could to help lift Amethyst’s lowered spirits in the hopes of returning some sense of much-needed normalcy once more. And so, almost as soon as they returned from the communication hub, the kids began to formulate a plan, one that would hopefully serve a twofold purpose: help Amethyst out of her funk and stop Peridot’s plans once and for all, all in one easy, fell swoop.

Night still presided over the vast desert sands as Lion emerged onto them, toting a smaller group of passengers than usual as he leapt out from the portal he had created with a mighty roar. The kids and Amethyst all dismounted the pink beast, the trio stepping forward first to find that the communication hub was still down, just as they had hoped, a sign that their newfound plan might just end up working after all.

“Uh… so are you three gonna tell me why we came here again, or not?” Amethyst asked, her arms crossed as she glared towards the downed tower.

“Well, the way we see it, Peridot seems pretty determined to get that message of hers to Homeworld,” Dipper explained. “After all, she’s already been here to fix the communication hub twice now.”

“Which means the odds are pretty good that she’ll come back a third time when she realizes its all busted up again,” Mabel added with a knowing grin.

“So all we gotta do is wait for her to show up and bam!” Steven slammed his fist into his palm. “That’s when we’ll get her.”

“Oh, yeah!” Amethyst perked up upon hearing this plan, a grin spreading across her face as she also playfully punched her palm. “Bam! She won’t know what hit her.”

“Garnet will be so impressed when she finds out that you caught Peridot all on your own,” Mabel winked to Amethyst, implying that they fully intended on giving the purple Gem all the credit for this group effort.

“And then she’ll think I’m cool again!” Amethyst surmised excitedly, fully understanding the kids’ intent here. “But, uh… are you guys sure you’re up for this? Peridot may be a nerd, but she’s kind of a tricky nerd, if ya haven’t noticed.”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” Dipper smirked as he nodded back to the sword strapped to his back. Likewise, Steven readily summoned his shield while Mabel took out her grappling hook and cocked it, proving to the purple Gem that the trio was more than prepared for anything Peridot threw their way.

“Heh, yeah, should have figured you dorks would come prepared,” Amethyst chuckled, genuinely glad for their help. “Now, let’s catch us a nerd.”

To remain discreet and unseen, the group tucked themselves away behind an outcropping of rock not too far away from the communication hub, one that gave them an ideal vantage point to keep a lookout for any signs of Peridot’s approach. Steven’s telescope made the task a bit easier as they sat and waited, taking shifts of looking out of the spyglass, hoping to catch a glimpse of the green Gem as she snuck through the open desert towards the tower in what would hopefully be a failed attempt at repairing it.

“Hm… nothing… more nothing…” Steven mused with a frown as he surveyed the desert surrounding the hub. Amethyst and the twins were sitting nearby, their backs against the rock as they waited for any new developments in slight boredom. They were all quick to perk up, however, as the young Gem let out a warning gasp upon finally spotting something through the telescope. “Oh! I think I see her!” he exclaimed, quickly zooming in to get a better look only to find that it was a false alarm. “No wait… that’s just a weird cactus.”

The others all groaned in exasperation at this, but even so, they maintained their vigil, even as the hours of the night seemed to drag on without any hint of an appearance from Peridot whatsoever. Most attempts at conversation had drifted off quite some time ago as they all grew collectively more weary and exhausted by the hour. Even so, at some point roughly after midnight, the ongoing round of sleepy quietness was broken by a loud, tired groan from Mabel.

“Ugh, this is so boooooring…” she huffed, crossing her arms as she slouched against the rock. “It feels like we’ve been waiting forever.”

“Its only been a few hours, Mabel,” Dipper remarked, glancing away from the telescope briefly. “Still, I guess this plan isn’t really working like we thought it would…”

“You can say that again,” Amethyst sighed in disappointment. “I don’t think she’s coming, you guys.” The purple Gem paused for a beat, her expression filling with confusion as she glanced over at Steven beside her, only to find that he was oddly focused on his fingers as he moved them close together, but never allowed them to touch. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I just figured out something really cool,” Steven grinned as he continued his newfound trick. “If you make your eyes blurry, it looks like there’s a little magic sausage between your fingers.”

“Wow…” Mabel mused as she tried it out for herself. “You’re right, Steven! Man, I can’t believe I’ve never tried this before, its great!”

“Pfft, this is stupid,” Amethyst rolled her eyes as she positioned her fingers close together. “It doesn’t even work—whoa…” The purple Gem cut herself off in amazement as Steven pulled the hair covering her other eye away, allowing her to see the aforementioned imaginary “sausage”.

“Heh, well, even if we didn’t catch Peridot, at least I taught us all a fun way to pass the time,” Steven concluded with a satisfied grin.

“Well, maybe we’d have a better chance at finding Peridot if we tried something else,” Dipper said, nowhere near as bemused as Steven, Mabel, and Amethyst currently were. “Like, I don’t know, actually hunting her down and capturing her instead of waiting for her to come to us, which she might not even do?”

“But what if she comes while we’re out looking for her?” Mabel asked with a frown. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to see if she shows up here again?”

“Actually, for once, I’m with Dipper,” Amethyst remarked, flipping her hair back into its usual place over her eye. “The sooner we nab Peridot, the sooner she’ll stop fixing the hub, and the sooner I won’t have to deal with Sardonyx anymore.”

The kids paused for a brief beat at this, exchanging a worried glance as they remembered what Stan had told them concerning the purple Gem’s opinions on the theatrical fusion. Still though, the conman had never mentioned exactly why Amethyst felt that way, hence why Steven was prompted to figure that out firsthand. “Uh… Amethyst? Why… why don’t you like Sardonyx?”

“Yeah,” Mabel joined in just as curiously. “She’s a lot of fun, and she has a cool hammer, and she’s-”

“And she’s graceful, and smart, and controlled, and ugh!” Amethyst finished with a groan as she flopped down into the sand onto her back. “She’s basically everything Sugilite isn’t. Everything I’m not… No wonder Garnet wanted to fuse with her instead of me… She doesn’t even trust me anymore, and why would she? I’m nothing but a backstabbing screwup!”

At this, the purple Gem slammed her fist into the rock behind her, her eyes tightly shut in her remorseful frustration, startling all three of the kids. As Amethyst let out a bitter sigh and placed her head in her hands, none of them were really sure about what to say to reassure her, mostly since they were still somewhat confused by this heated outburst in the first place. “A screwup?” Steven questioned gently. “Amethyst, what are you-”

“I’m talking about what happened with that stupid portal!” Amethyst snapped before the young Gem could even finish. “How I tried to stop Garnet and Pearl from shutting it down! How I basically fought them away from it! My friends, my teammates, I just… turned against them all because I thought it was a good idea to listen to Stan, but it wasn’t! Because now we know, we remember what that machine was for, what it could have done, who it could have-” The purple Gem cut herself off sharply, sucking in painful tears before she continued. “I was stupid. Reckless and stupid, just like I was the last time me and Garnet formed Sugilite, only this time it was with something even worse. And that’s why she won’t fuse with me anymore… Because I nearly ruined everything…”

As Amethyst buried her head into her arms and pulled her knees to her chest, she let out a small, broken sob, one that wasn’t lost on any of the kids as they silently searched for some way to comfort her. The source of her ongoing bitterness and despair the past few days was now clear, and it was obvious that it had more to do with just the memories she had recently recalled. Those painful feelings came from a place of guilt, of remorse so deep and so profound that she obviously didn’t know how to really reconcile it for herself. Which was why perhaps she needed some help when it came to doing just that.

“A-Amethyst,” Steven began softly, ready to place a steadying hand on the distraught purple Gem’s shoulder. “What you did wasn’t-”

“Whoa! Hold on!” Dipper suddenly interjected as he looked through the telescope once more. “Guys! I think I saw something!”

“Huh?” the others all quickly questioned, rising to stand as they congregated around the telescope. Upon peering through it, they were able to see a small, distant light gliding across the far off horizon at an impressive speed as it readily approached the communication hub. And, as Steven took his turn and zoomed in on this light just a bit, he gasped in surprise upon seeing exactly what it was.

“P-Peridot’s escape pod?!” the young Gem exclaimed, allowing the others a chance to see. “She… fixed it somehow?”

“But I thought we had it!” Amethyst protested, knowing that they had apprehended the broken pod when it had been found by the kids and the teens in the abandoned field several weeks ago.

“You don’t think she could have stolen it from the temple, do you?” Mabel asked fretfully.

“I wouldn’t put it past her…” Dipper muttered scornfully, a hand already on the hilt of his sword as they watched the pod easily scale up the side of the tower.

“Whoa…” Steven whispered upon watching the pod’s tractor beams begin to piece the broken hub back together again. “She’s lifting the pillar guys and she’s fixing the hub.” The young Gem paused as the escape pod did, coming to a stop at the very tip of the hub as an indiscernible figure, presumably Peridot, emerged rom it to inspect her handywork. Steven zoomed in once more, trying to get a better look, only to notice that the silhouette standing high above them really didn’t look much like Peridot at all upon a second glance. “Hey, y-you know for some reason, Peridot kinda looks like-” He gasped, his jaw dropping in shock as the figure on top of the hub finally came into clear view, revealing something that sent him absolutely reeling as he relayed it to the others. “Pearl?!”

“What?!” Amethyst and the twins exclaimed in dumbfounded unison, none of them able to believe such an admittedly unbelievable claim.

“Let me see!” the purple Gem was quick to push Steven away from the telescope to look for herself, only to find that sure enough, Pearl herself was standing on top of the hub, a smile of satisfaction on her face from her successful repair of the formerly downed Gem tech. And despite how alarming this unexpected revelation was, Amethyst was very quick to put the pieces together as to exactly what had been going on all along, including the white Gem’s very impressive deception, as well as the no doubt incredibly heavy fall out that would result from it all in the end. “Oh no…”

Needless to say that in light of their discovery the previous evening, Steven, the twins, and Amethyst were all quite unnerved as they sat in front of the TV up at the temple the following morning. The television hadn’t even been turned on, mostly because they all already knew static would inevitably await them as a result of the communication hub’s repair. A repair so strangely yet so discreetly done by Pearl of all people, which was a mystery none of them, save for Amethyst, could really figure out.

“Why would Pearl rebuild the hub?” Steven wondered aloud, voicing what they were all thinking.

“Maybe she’s trying to study how it works?” Dipper theorized, hopeful for the white Gem’s innocence, even if it seemed like she really wasn’t. “T-that way we could come up with a plan to keep Peridot from fixing it again.”

“No…” Amethyst shook her head glumly. “I don’t think that’s it…”

“Maybe she just wanted to get everyone more TV channels,” Mabel suggested with a bit of a forced smile as she turned the TV on, only for, as expected, static to fill the screen once more.

“Oh my! This is no good!” The group gathered on the loft all jolted in surprise as Pearl joined them, putting on an apparent front of surprise as she noted the ongoing static.

“W-what’s wrong?” Steven asked nervously, exchanging an uneasy glance with the others as Pearl readily kept her act up.

“It’s Peridot,” the white Gem surmised instantly. “She must have fixed the communication hub again!” As much as the kids and Amethyst wanted to voice that they knew that this claim was, in fact, far from the truth, they didn’t get that chance as Garnet entered the house, and much to their dismay, Pearl didn’t hesitate to grab her attention. “Garnet, it’s the hub again,” she reported with faux worry. “We’ll have to hurry back to the desert and tear it down once more!”

“Hm, Peridot’s evading my future vision…” Garnet mused with a hint of frustration in her tone, clearly not suspecting anything. “No matter how many times I try, I can’t see us finding her. Oh well,” the Gem leader shook her head clear as she led the way back outside. “Come on, team.”

“Oh, yes! Let’s be on our way!” Pearl sang brightly, a wide, excited smile on her face as she followed Garnet out, more than ready to form Sardonyx with her once more. Amethyst and the kids however, were the last to leave, all four of them bearing the same exact secret that Pearl did. A secret that, they all knew, only had a matter of time before Garnet discovered it. And once she did, there was no telling what might happen.

“I can’t believe Peridot is causing us so much trouble!” Pearl huffed in showy annoyance, though she was quick to perk up once again as her and Garnet prepared to fuse. The communication hub stood tall and repaired once again, just as the white Gem had left it the previous night, and all the while Amethyst and the kids stood by, unsure of what needed to be done to put an end to the white Gem’s bizarre façade. “But it hardly matters, right, Garnet?” Pearl quipped, clasping her hands together happily as the Gem leader gave her a smile of confidence. “We can disable this tower as many times as we need to, together! Okay? Ok. I’m ready! Are you ready?”

As the white Gem continued to cheerfully ramble on, Amethyst wrapped her arms around herself tightly, wishing that Pearl hadn’t conceived this awful plan in the first place. But she had, and the purple Gem knew that remaining silent on the matter would only make her as guilty as her own teammate in all of this. “I know what she’s doing…” Amethyst muttered to the kids, hating that things had come to this even if she understood. Oh, did she ever understand. Because if she had been in the same place as Pearl was, she wasn’t entirely sure if she wouldn’t have done the exact same thing too.

“Y-you do?” Steven glanced over at her, the twins sharing his worry as Garnet and Pearl prepared to fuse behind them. That is, until Amethyst decided to finally put an end to this deceitful charade once and for all.

“Stop!” she shouted, taking a bold step forward and already regretting it the very moment she did.

Garnet and Pearl froze at this, clinging onto each other though their dance was stalled as they both looked to their teammate, startled. “I-Is something the matter, Amethyst?” the white Gem asked, clearly caught of guard.

“G-Garnet… I…” Amethyst bit her lip, averting the Gem leader’s gaze out of guilt, though even so, she knew this had to be done. “I know you might not trust me after… w-what happened the other day, but… y-you… you shouldn’t fuse… i-it… it’s not…”

As Amethyst trailed off, the kids quickly leapt in, hoping to explain the matter more than she was currently able to. “Uh… Pearl… we saw you…” Mabel admitted with a hesitant frown.

“W-what?” Pearl asked softly, her eyes wide as she began to follow, though she only really understood as Dipper elaborated.

“Last night,” he began, a bit more firmly than Mabel as he looked to his sword teacher with clear disappointment. “We were out here waiting to see if we could catch Peridot if she came by again but… she didn’t… And instead you did…”

Pearl sucked in a sharp gasp at this, her breathing short as she looked between the group before her and Garnet, who was still holding onto her, staring at her for answers she couldn’t possibly give. “Pearl,” Steven spoke up, his tone sad and imploring. “What you’ve been doing… i-it’s not right. You have to tell Garnet it was you!”

“I don’t understand,” Garnet finally spoke, her shades catching Pearl’s reflection in them as she stared back up at her nervously.

For what seemed like ages, the white Gem said nothing, her form trembling slightly at the horrific realization that she had been caught. That her nearly perfect plan had fallen to pieces right in front of her. Just like everything else as of late, so it seemed. “I… I’m sorry…” she began, her voice so soft it could barely even be heard as tears started to well up in her eyes. “It’s just… s-so much happened these past few days and… after what we learned, I… I felt like… I felt broken… A-and I needed… something to take that unbearable pain away… And when we fused it was like… it all just… disappeared… You don’t know how much I needed that, Garnet… It was… so much fun being Sardonyx with you…”

Garnet’s reaction to the truth was immediate. With a harsh gasp of shock, her hands quickly flew away from Pearl, almost as if touching her in light of her trickery had physically burned her. The white Gem quickly righted herself, her eyes still wide and tearful as she looked to the Gem leader standing over her, her eyes still covered by her shades, though her expression was filled with obvious surprise and hurt as she shook her head in disbelief. “That’s why I couldn’t see us finding Peridot…”

“W-wait! Let me explain!” Pearl pleaded, shakily rising to her feet.

“You’ve been fixing the hub!” Garnet snapped, her shock turning into rage as she took an aggressive step towards the startled white Gem.

“It really was Peridot! T-the first time…”

“You tricked me!”

“No, no, no! W-we just needed a reason to fuse!” Pearl tried to rationalize, though now that what she had done was out in the open for everyone to know, she couldn’t help but feel rather terrible for her actions now herself. “All I wanted was to feel… whole again! I just wanted to share a few more victories with you!”

“Those weren’t victories!” Garnet shouted, her hands in tight fists as she seemed to tower over Pearl, her anger fiery and fierce. “I can’t believe you’d lie to me like this, after everything we’ve just discovered! I thought you’d know what it’s like to be deceived like this, Pearl, but clearly you’ve learned nothing! Because as far as I’m concerned, you’re no better that he was!”

Pearl sucked in a shrill gasp at this, her hands flying over her mouth as her tears finally fell at such a vicious proclamation. Upon hearing it, Amethyst acted on a whim, knowing that even despite Garnet’s justifiable anger, even Pearl didn’t deserve to be part of such an awful, unfitting comparison. “W-wait, Garnet!” the purple Gem threw herself in between her quarreling teammates. “You know, we’re so much weaker than you! Fusing with you is like, our one chance to feel… stronger!”

“Don’t defend her!” Garnet yelled harshly, making the purple Gem flinch back in fear at the harshness of her tone. “Peridot is still out there somewhere and Pearl’s been distracting us with… nothing!”

“G-Garnet…” Pearl tearfully tried to interject, only for Garnet to instantly cut her off.

“That’s enough!” Garnet ordered, refusing to hear anymore of the white Gem’s desperate excuses. Despite how clearly furious she was, the Gem leader was still mindful of the task at hand, her outraged glare still apparent as she turned to Amethyst instead. “Amethyst, fuse with me!”

Amethyst balked at this, her eyes wide in surprise at this unexpected invitation—no, rather this demand to fuse with the Gem leader at a time like this. “W-wha… b-but I-”

“Let’s just get this over with…” Garnet hissed, her hands still in tight fists as she grabbed the purple Gem’s arm almost roughly. Pearl quickly scurried away from the pair as they preformed a rushed, inelegant fusion dance, one that the white Gem and the kids all watched in apt fear in light of the Gem leader’s still very prevalent fury. In fact, that fury was still incredibly present in Sugilite as she formed, her massive presence far more aggressive and abrasive than it had ever been before as she didn’t even bother summoning her weapon. Instead, the rowdy fusion took the hub down with a single two-fisted punch, one that slammed hard into the tower’s pillars, shattering them in a way that would ensure it would never be repaired by anyone ever again. As the glow from the hub faded and its remains came crashing to the ground, Pearl could only watch with wide eyes of terror as the last strand of comfort and stability she thought she had left in light of how much had already fallen apart come crashing down right in front of her yet again.

And just like the last time, she only had herself to blame.

A feeling of solemn sadness filled the temple the following day, to the point that the overdramatic wails of the characters of Crying Breakfast Friends only seemed to lower Amethyst and the kids’ spirits even more as they sat up in the loft to watch it. None of them were really that invested in the show, however, in light of what had happened the previous day and how rattled it had left them all. Though one scene in particular did seem to ring somewhat true to how things were going in reality as Crying Pear begged Sad Spoon for forgiveness over a wrongdoing.

“Oh please, forgive me!” the pear wailed tearfully.

“Of course, I forgive you!” Sad Spoon cried in response, both of them bawling as they warmly embraced over their repaired relationship.

Amethyst let out a small, sad sigh upon watching this exchange, hoping for something similar between Garnet and Pearl, though nothing of the sort had transpired yet. Because as things were now, the Gem leader was still simmering with unspoken anger towards her teammate, the betrayal clear to read on her face as she warped into the temple. Ironically enough, Pearl also stepped into the house, her expression remorseful, tired, and sad as she approached the temple gate. Her eyes were red from recently shed tears, tears that looked like they were on the verge of returning once more, especially as Garnet passed by her. Neither Gem made eye contact with each other, though Pearl did briefly stop in the middle of the room, almost as if she wanted to say something to Garnet. She didn’t get the chance, however, as the Gem leader walked out the door, not even willing to give her teammate even a single moment of repose. With a soft sigh of disappointment, Pearl’s shoulders drooped as she continued on to the temple gate, disappearing inside of it for what would surely be yet another round of mourning over things she couldn’t change now.

The purple Gem shook her head as she watched this entire exchange, or lack thereof, unfold before her, guilt weighing heavy upon her shoulders as she realized she had yet another regret to add to her ever growing list of them. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything to Garnet about Pearl’s deception at all. Maybe things would have been better off if she had just decided to grin and bear it and left it all well enough alone. True, Pearl had lied and tricked Garnet, and based on the memories they had just reclaimed, it was grave mistake on her part. But still, Amethyst knew that anything would be better than the rift that had torn her team apart at the very worst of times.

“Man, it sure would be nice if things worked out the way they do in cartoons,” Steven spoke up quietly, the twins nodding their silent agreement as they had all noted the very same tension between Garnet and Pearl that Amethyst had.

“Yeah…” the purple Gem sighed morosely as the young Gem turned the TV off. “It would…”

And indeed, it would be better if things could so easily repair themselves like that, or if nothing else go back to the way they were before. Because at least before, amidst the portal opening, amidst Ford returning, amidst their memories being returned to them, the Gems could all lean on each other for some kind of support in their mutual confusion and eventual sorrow. At least they could find solace in the fact that they did not have to suffer alone, that they had solidarity in the unbearable pain they all shared. And perhaps if they had depended on that solidarity to heal them more than searching for their own ways of fixing the unfixable past, maybe none of this would have happened. But it had. Another storm, one just as big and powerful and destructive as the last one, swept through their lives once again, ripping apart some of the last few strands of support holding the Crystal Gems together.

Which meant that once those final strands were inevitably broken, it would only be a matter of time before they fell apart completely.

15 notes · View notes

ryvxn · 3 years

Text

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐆𝐔𝐍—𝐺𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌—𝑺𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐯𝐚𝐫. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 , 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 , 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧 — 𝟏𝟖𝟗𝟑

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. violence, war, blood, murder

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

his desire for loyalty was naive. he had not understood that being loyal was not so tidy, being loyal meant being disloyal to everything else. his gesture proper, chest puffed out with pride and hands connected below his ridge. the adopted son of joseon's renowned scholar did not behave like a noble, he treated himself like a royal. the foreign and invisible caftan of dignity heavy on his shoulders, he showcased an award-worthy performance of pretending to care as he stood beside his sister, to talk to her — to persuade her to become a concubine to the one that blindly sold his country. the king of the crown, the nemesis of the crowd.

his sister, however, neither acknowledged him as a relative because he was adopted nor saw him as a worthful person to interact with — because he was anything but a human in her eyes. there was no point in listening to him. for the first time in her life she was determined to get what she had always wanted: she would be something other than herself.

“ they are sending concubines from everywhere, ” he spoke after he spent half an hour watching her train swordsmanship. as if what she did was nothing more than a spare-time hobby — as if he could always do better because he was a man. he thought it would make their time more useful to talk about her soon to arrive invitation instead of talking about their falling country.

“ if you're that interested in becoming in concubine, go there as my substitution. ” her answer came out sharp and had an intention to perform as the conversation ender. unfortunately, the other did not have sense and instead, decided to walk in front of her. an unnerving smirk at the corner of his lips and a loathsome venom over his coal coloured eyes.

“ ko huijin, ” he called her name walking even closer to disturb her personal space. he smelt like sweat and shame and cigarette smoke. “ i will start to think you're refusing to be the king's woman because you're interested in me. ”

after all, the male ego was a horrible thing. she was not even surprised to see him so full of himself with the vain thought of her having any kind of feelings towards him. he spoke as if he was not aware, the only reason she bore with his existence was her father. — she knew he was aware of it very well. it was the very reason he hesitated to approach her. today, however, he seemed to borrow the confidence of someone else that was too big on him. the way his hand reached to her cheek proved that.

“ or should i ask, what would you do if i'm interested in you? even more, love you? ”

what she wrote in her life had no beginning: it was a continuation. she was neither naive enough to believe in fabricated lies nor young enough to chase after love. she was born as a fragile daughter of a scholar but ever since the pieces of her previous life filled her mind, huijin knew she was born twice. once for her flesh and second time for her soul. she heard enough of lies. her lips were kissed by death and her skin was caressed by the flames of the inferno. for someone who obtained the will-o-the-wisp, what could a mere mortal's love offer? he would just use his excuse for himself to stop her — because he would think loving someone would give him a right to become a useless stone under her feet.

what would she do? huijin's gaze looked far away from his shoulder and there she caught the terrified eyes of her father. he seemed to hear the other's words, which only gave her enough reason to hurdle that problem. — and so, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. a breath that carried the scent of death along with it. then, she raised her sword and did not miss a second to run it through the flesh of the other. the sharp edge created a deep cut on his neck and his eyes widened as his tremulous hands reached for his sheared skin.

what would she do? he asked and so she gave him an answer, satisfied orbs staring at him.

“ this. ”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ �� ⠀ —

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

the english words she first learned were: gun, glory and sad ending. it was a couple of months after the incident that huijin left the luxury of nobleness behind and joined a small group of independence warriors.

for someone who grew up in silla palace, joseon's capital was the ironic mirror image of what her life could be. born for the second time in a place she least expected and with a new name, ko huijin, she was not a daughter of a monarch but instead, she was the child of a respected scholar. surrounded by people that actually loved and respected her, she did not hesitate to hold a gun when the japanese army stepped into the territory of joseon. determined to fight for independence, she even dared to forget about her curse. guns, swords, bitter taste of soil. unlike her first life, huijin fought not for her reign but for the sake of her beloved people — people she would do anything to protect.

“ the journalists from america are here. ” huijin heard some of their comrades whisper among themselves. she knew they were tremulous and felt disquiet but also found a piece of hope that the world was going to hear about their war. once they looked at her, she nodded her head to acknowledge their claims before she attempted to leave for training. however, the next comment she heard made her pause on her track.

“ three of them arrived at the mountain this evening. ”

no. she thought, there were only two of them.

as the older seniors were occupied with their interviews, huijin decided to check around herself. the small gun they stole from the american army in her hand, her dagger tied around her thigh, she slowly walked around the mountain forest that smelt gunpowder and iron. feet carefully pressing over the soil, she spent the night awake and wandered into the deeper side of the forest minutes before the sunrise.

“ domi? ” the familiar-looking silhouette almost caused her to put the gun down. “ what are you doing here — ” alone. she was about to ask when a phantom of stranger fell under her sight. his lips locked on the other's neck — his eyes painted in the brightest colour of blood and his teeth sharp enough to cut the flesh. “ what? — who are you? ”

huijin could guess who the other one was, she remembered hearing about them in her previous life. part of the tale whispered from wiseling lips to curious ears. nightwalkers. the beasts of the night that subsisted through the blood of the living.

“ stay away from her, ” was perhaps not the best way to transmit her wrath. as the other soon dropped the almost dead body of domi to the side, wiped the blood at the corner of his lips and then started to walk towards her.

huijin did not hesitate to pull the trigger, her aim accurate and harmful. however, the sight in front of her was more than enough for her to notice bullets did not easily stop blood-sucking beasts. eyes wide due to fear, she had to think fast and that was what she did. even if she could not fully stop the other, she would not simply give up. that was why, huijin just kept her gun aimed at the same place and pulled the trigger until she was out of the bullets.

she turned on her heels to run, to warn others and to get weapons but the night walker stopped her by jumping on her flesh. she fought against it by kicking the other but the vampire easily tore her flesh, as if she was just a semblance of existence and nothing else. and maybe, she really was.

“ let me go, ” she complained, her voice adorned with exhaustion and flare. her body irked when she caught the sight of fangs yet she still managed to reach for the dagger before cutting the vampires mouth, from one side to another.

the colour shade in the eyes of the other was a clear sign that if huijin was not in trouble before, she definitely was at the very moment. — and it was not her alone. it seemed like the group heard the sound of the gun. she heard them calling her name desperately, looking for any sign that asked for help. and she tried to raise her voice, to tell them to run away because a nightwalker entered their territory. however, before she could do so, the beam of rising sun tore the veil of darkness and fell on her despite the shadows of the forest trees. — and like that, the intruder disappeared.

“ huijin! huijin what happened? ”

a forest was a living thing like a human body…each part dependent on all the other parts. the forest was them, it was within them and it led the group to find her, covered in her blood and her leg broken. there was also a deep cut on her cheek, which left the elders in a torturous regret. them finding the dead body of domi did not ease their pain as well.

“ what happened here? who attacked you? ”

huijin did not answer. she did not know if they would believe her or even if they did, would that change anything? she sighed deeply, coming to one conclusion only. if there was no way to defeat that enemy for now, she had to concur with them.

“ i don't know, i didn't see the attacker. ”

and so, she drank the silence of god from a spring in the woods.

0 notes

selinaneveahcrystal · 6 years

Text

Catharsis

A/N: Alright. I’d like to thank @themutantunderground and @blink-when-it-thunders for betaing this one shot Catharsis for me :3 I was terribly unsure of the ending itself, and didn’t know what things to cut or leave. Anyway, all the thanks to the prompts from the reblog of @quintessentiallygifted , which gave me the right inspiration from the word prompts I saw. (I even screenshot the post in my phone xD And I look through all 100 of them everyday to see which prompts stand out as inspirations before I form the prompt idea in my brain lol)

Now, a good warning ahead of time. A whole load of angst, and well..you guys would probably be able to guess what else from the compilation of word prompts I chose how this one shot will go.

Enjoy and Comment/Review!

61. We need to talk.

58. I made a mistake.

36. I think I’m in trouble.

79. I don’t feel well.

19. Just breathe, okay?

91. I can’t breathe.

54. Talk to me.

82. I’m on my way.

85. I need to tell you something.

100. I love you

He calls her in the middle of a Hellfire Club meeting, at the most inopportune time possible.

She's been arguing with the snotty higher brass about the direction they wanted to take the Hellfire Club, and is pissed, because she can't believe he's managed to wheedle out her newest phone number from Sage (somehow, because she's been keeping tabs on him through Sage.).

So she snaps at him as soon as she picks up the phone, the embarrassingly loud ringtone bouncing off the walls of the whitewashed meeting room, the bright phone screen flashing the old nickname and his current number she couldn't bear to discard even after she left.

Their little girl has been keeping her up all night with her demands to see her father, her nights ending with scream fests from a five year old who has nothing but an old photo she printed out for Aurora to keep as a keepsake of her father at her daughter's demand. "What?" She snaps, regrets almost immediately, her harsh tone, because he's done almost nothing to deserve it. "We need to talk."

All her guilt at snapping at him rushes away as soon as he opens his mouth, and those words spill from his lips. Lorna heaves a deep breath. "Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something important here." "Yeah, uh, about that. Nope. I don't think it can wait." He sounds off. No, just wrong, and Lorna can't put a finger on it. "Lorna, I think I made a mistake." "What?" Her stomach drops into a pit, because she suddenly hears his heavy breathing, laboured and tense, as though he's hurt. "Uh, I think I’m in trouble." He coughs, and she hears him curse slurrily, a suppressed groan barely transmitting over the line. Just barely. "I..don't feel well. And um, there's a lot of glowing blood." Her fingers tremble as they clutch the phone, almost crushing it in her tight grip. "Just breathe okay?" She's panicking inside, and it shows in her wide eyes, because suddenly Sage flies to the computer and starts hacking into the Mutant Underground servers that they've hooked to an open line. "Yeah about that." He draws another wheezing breath. "Can't breathe." There's a shuffle and clatter of objects as Marcos curses lowly over the line, his slurring lisp becoming more pronounced by the minute. There are shouts of other human voices over the line, and Lorna fights the urge to choose a direction and just run blindly, hoping to reach him. "I found them. They're being targeted by Hounds." Sage's urgent voice is loud in her ear. "Is that Sage?" He slurs at her over the line. "Yeah. Yes. Um yes." She's suddenly frightened and at a loss of what to say. This couldn't be happening. She'd left them for exactly the reason to prevent something like this from ever happening. To prevent herself from losing him to those anti-mutant renegades that hunted their kind. Her eyes burn, and her fingers slide away wet at the corners. She's shaking, but her voice is nothing but strong and firm. The line falls silent for a while, and her heart trips, her hysterics threatening to rise to the surface as she fails to hear the comforting rough pained breaths of his over the line. "Talk to me!" It's a desperate demand, and the barest thread of her hysterical fear slides through her words. "Marcos!" "Hmm?" He's always been compelled to answer her when she needed him, and he slurs out a low affirmative response. Lorna almost imagines him, down on the floor, encircled by a spreading pool of glowing blood, his lashes fluttering close as the pool of blood expands. That image horrifies her, because there's no way she was ever, ever gonna let that happen. She glares at Esme. Why weren't they sending some members of their team to help rescue their fellow mutants? Was she so incapable as to wait for every instruction to fall from her own lips? Lorna gritted her teeth angrily. "Aurora's been asking to see you, you know?" Her voice betrays a tiny tremble, and she shakes slightly. "She has a photo of you, and she's been screaming at me to let her meet you." A low watery chuckle flutters over the line. "Really?" "Really." She almost whispers, tears burning in her eyes. "I was thinking..uh, thinking about letting her meet you this Saturday." She makes up a wild decision last minute, grasping at ends of straws just to make a conversation with him, to keep him awake longer, until they could get a team and reach him. "Sounds good." He mumbles into the phone. "If I can make it of course." "What are you talking about? Of course you can." They both know what he's talking about, but Lorna refuses to consider it, no, she can't consider it, because losing him might just break her beyond repair. "Hmm." He hums, too tired to give her a snarky response that she knows must be on the tip of his tongue. "We've got the team ready. They're ready to get there. Five minutes tops." Sage reports back to her, eyes flashing, and Lorna strips her jacket from her shoulders, ignoring the meeting to stride out of the doors after Sage. It’s a given that she's coming with them, no questions asked. "Hey. I need to tell you something." Relief fills her chest as she hears him shift slightly, breathing deep into the phone. His voice is thick with tears and emotion, and she grits her teeth. "No, you can tell me when I get there. Yourself." Her voice is almost hysterical. She can sense him slipping from the edges, barely holding on. "I'm not listening to you!" She doesn't care that the rest of the team are shooting her curious and odd glares at her rare display of explosive emotion. "Can you tell this to 'Rora for me?" "You can tell her yourself!" She's nearly screaming into the phone, trying to stop him from saying those last few words and slipping away. "You just need to hold on, you hear me? I'm on my way!" Marcos inhales slightly, a bubble of soft laughter rising from his chest. "That's good to know." She doesn't need to be there to know he's holding the phone close to his chest---she can hear the pounding of his heartbeat vibrating through the phone. "I love you." There's a loud crash and whirring of mobile machinery that transmits over the line---and Lorna screams and screams and screams----till there's nothing left responding over the line to her voice but loud buzzing static, and the lack of the sound of his heartbeat. ... The funeral held for him is silent, simple, and tight knit.

No one questions the presence of the HellFire Club at the wake, and her daughter refuses to talk or even look at her throughout the funeral. Aurora simply sits on the chair next to the casket, her knees tucked to her chin as she stares wordlessly at the body lying in the casket, far too tearless, silent for a five year old who lost a father, and far too solemn for a child her age. There's nothing but a gaping hole in Lorna's chest as she gazes at her daughter, her eyes just staring emptily at the casket and the body. It aches, but she's Lorna Dane, and Lorna Dane no longer cried for a simple (life-shattering) loss of a loved one.

No.

She'd bigger things that she needed must complete. Especially after this. Marcos had been out getting supplies for the Underground when he'd been ambushed by two teams of Sentinel Services, eight evolving Sentinel Machineries and two sets of Hounds that prevented his escape. All for one man. Just because he was a mutant, and that he had relations to her. (That was your fault) The attack had been planned, targeted, and they all had been far too careless, too caught up with their differences to note the impending danger. (Your fault) And because of that, he was gone, and her daughter was robbed of a loving father she'd never met. (All your fault) Lorna's hands clenched as she patted Aurora's shoulders. They'd overstayed their welcome with the Mutant Underground by attending the wake. It was time to leave. For a moment, her daughter's angry eyes meet her own, similarly coloured and flashing with surging disobedience that Lorna thought she would flare and throw a tantrum to stay, but the little five year old simply slips off the chair to stand next to her. She holds out a hand gently, waiting for Aurora to place that small too warm hand in her own, and is startled when her daughter glances down at the offered hand, before sprinting off in the direction of the van, her offered hand foolishly held out in the cold open air. Lorna sighed lightly, eyes catching John's sad ones, before leaving. .... "Aurora..." Her daughter's door slams right in her face as she follows her little girl with quick rapid footsteps. She inhales a deep breath, and knocks, entirely out of politeness. "Go away." Her little girl's voice is muffled. "Aurora.." "I hate you! Hate you ! Hate you! Hate you! It's all your fault!" The sudden burst of loud screaming from behind Aurora's door sends a punch to Lorna's gut. (Told you, all your fault) Tears well in her eyes. She's hurting too, couldn't her daughter see? She loved Marcos too. "I'm sorry." Her voice with choked with emotion. "He wanted to say something to you. He told me to tell you when he was on the phone." Aurora's quiet now, and Lorna feels the electrical energy belonging to her daughter plastered to the door, so close and yet so far. "He said, Tell Aurora 'I love you.'" The words were whispered loud enough for her daughter to hear, Lorna's own hands pressed tightly against the door. There's a silent beat as the words sink in. Then her own tears fall as Aurora bursts into tears. …

Life goes on after that.

It has to. They never had a choice about that.

Lorna picks herself up, and so does Aurora, though everyone can tell that gaping space that lies in their hearts. Their smiles are never the same.

Aurora spends most of her time beside that small box of recordings that John gave her back at the wake. They used to record back in the good old days. Playing the old cheesy songs that were Marcos' favourite, hearing him belt out alongside Lorna’s own soft soprano,the strains of music on repeat.

Her daughter joins their fight far too young, at the age of ten, despite Lorna's own protests, her sword sharpened by years of training and a well cultivated hate of losing a loved one far too young.

She's inherited her father's love and talent for art, and her walls are decorated with pictures she's taken, paintings and drawings made by her own hand. Her masterpiece hangs in their hallway, a grey pencilled drawing of a deep pit, filled with hands reaching upwards for a light they could never reach. It's a work in progress, because it's a art piece that will never finish till their war finishes. Countless hands with small printed names in her daughter's handwriting reach up in that picture, detailed to the horrifying point of the recognizable scars on Lorna's own hands, from a fight that almost went wrong, Fade's own hands, half hazy just like his invisibility, and Sage's hands, toughened with the calluses.

Lorna's eyes always looks for one, right in the centre, dark, glowing and blazing, full of Hope that Marcos always held to when he was alive. Everyone's hands were there, all those that fought and were fighting this war between mutants and humans. She recognised John's and Clarisse's twined hands, joined in a fervent clasp amidst all the countless hands that reached upwards to the circle of light. Andy. Lauren. Reed. Caitlin. Carmen. Her stomach drops as she sees a pair of hands that do not belong, large, male, with a SS tag twined around his fingers. SS Services. Jace Turner. Her daughter's neat print flowered at the side of the drawing of his hands. Footsteps echo in their hallway, and Lorna recognises the familiar footfalls of her ten year old daughter that just finished her first mission. She stays silent as she sees the reddened circles under her daughter's eyes, and the tremble of Aurora's fingers, stained with blood. Aurora steps forward slightly, her hands shaking, before she adds another pair of hands to the deep pit.

They're pale, small, and delicate, fingers slightly callused with the regular gripping of a sword, with small splatters of blood patterning on the wrist and fingers---residues of taking a life, hands that were younger, far far younger than most hands reaching up in the dark pit. The pencil that her daughter holds stops, and both of them glance at each other slightly.

The pencil flickers between her daughter's fingers, and she feeds another name to the pit. Aurora. ~~~~

@eclipsepolarisxauroraborealis @themutantunderground @btahmisyan @thegiftedpredictions @dairdevil @countryole

@behappyitsemmalie This was the one shot I wanted reviewed and betaed xD But by the time you replied it was already betaed xD Well, if you have any comments or feedback, I’d be really glad to hear it :)

#the gifted #fanfic: the gifted #eclaris #my fics #writing #angst #word prompts #character death #original character #I had doubts about the painting ending

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thelordofthepenblog-blog · 5 years

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Lorogos

The state dinner was a formal affair, filled with the sound of quiet chatter and the clinking of china. The dining room was long, with two long tables lining either viewport that looked out upon the world below. Above them was a dais, upon which dined the king, queen, and their daughters. Few dared glance at them, for rumors abounded of the royal family’s capricious and offended manner. They were but nobility, after all, and easily replaceable as far as the family was concerned – many of them had heirs. Malleable heirs, to suit the family’s desires. For the good of the realm, of course.

The king belched, and all noise quieted for a moment as the sound echoed through the hall. It was a long moment before the nobility would pick up their utensils and resume, the tension palpable. Antasia glanced to her side, watching as her father chuckled and wiped himself with a napkin. He murmured something to his wife, too low for her to catch, and her mother rewarded him with a cold smile. He laughed at that too.

Antasia quietly rolled her eyes and looked back at her food, roasted ithrii quail covered in sauce. A delicacy to most, but Antasia’s stomach roiled at the thought. How many below starved while her parents threw feasts for the rich? Famine had come to the continent of Hrul for the past year, and its people were looking at a harsh winter without help. Once again, she dared a glance at them, seated at a table slightly more elevated than that of her and her sister’s. Her mother was regarding the gathered nobility with a critical blue eye, as ever, while her father was ordering a servant to pour him another glass. Her older sister, seated on the other end of the table, barely reacted to any of this. In fact, if the slight glassiness of her eyes was any indication, Frehlia had already doped herself up for the night. The rest of the universe had become extraneous; all that mattered was her own little world.

It hadn’t always been like this, Antasia knew. She remembered, very dimly, that her parents had been much warmer, that her sister’s smiles hadn’t been because of the drugs. They were more loving of their people. Her mother sang sometimes, to lift both her and their people’s spirits when times were tough.

Then a war happened – her uncle had tried to seize the throne in a vicious, bloody coup she and Frehlia had barely survived. When the assassinations had failed, the world of Lorogos had been plunged into a bloody civil war that raged until Antasia was a teenager. Her uncle had been executed, his family either imprisoned or exiled, and numerous trade sanctions had been imposed by the other galactic powers, ones vastly more powerful than anything Lorogos could drum up. Her father bitterly claimed that it was a curse from his brother, that his political allies in the other powers were punishing the royal family for winning the war. Antasia knew the reality: trade had been disrupted when Lorogos warships seized any vessels that passed through their territory and took anything they deemed valuable, up to and including the crews and ships themselves sometimes. And since Lorogos sat on the Greater Ooro Trade Route, this had caused much strife and disruption in the wider galaxy.

Her parents, of course, did not seem concerned by this. All they saw was another injustice heaped upon them in the aftermath of a devastating war. Many of the speeches her father gave in the first few years following the conflict were tirades against the likes of the Imperium and the Alliance, accusing them of colluding with former Lorogosian rebels and trying to instigate the fall of the royal family for their own purposes. It had been then that Antasia realized the level of her family’s fall, of how mad and disturbed they’d become after years of running and hiding from assassins and the ongoing conflict.

Antasia jolted from her thoughts at the sound of her father clearing his throat. She looked up and saw him rising to his feet, only slightly unsteady from wine. He cleared his throat again, and everyone and everything in the dining hall stopped. Froze, like a sheet of ice had claimed all of them. The princess glanced at her father, his massive, corpulent form and his shock of red hair. He didn’t look so much like a king as a despot mocking his subjects, between his rimrod posture, his unforgiving smirk. “Friends,” he began, his voice booming across the hall. Antasia knew it wasn’t just his voice creating that effect; speakers had been cleverly concealed in the walls during construction, and a transmitter implanted into her father’s cheek transmitted his voice to them. “You may be wondering why I’ve called you all here tonight to our humble palace.

Humble? Hardly. Though initially they’d resided on neutral ground, after the war her father had taken one of the orbital habitats, evicted its original residents, and had the entire construct converted into a single, massive structure. It had taken over a decade, and the lives of more than a few laborers, to complete. Her father claimed it was for security, as few dissenters would likely be able to breach the defenses and enter the palace. Antasia wondered if it was really done as a power move, to remind everyone who was truly in charge.

“I have called you all here to discuss a most grievous attack on our people. As you all know, the continent of Hrul suffered a plague this past year, one that murdered much of their livestock and crop. They have little enough to last them through the coming winter. Many will likely starve and die without assistance.” Antasia looked at her father, surprised. Was he truly acknowledging this crisis? Normally he and her mother brushed such incidents under the rug and never spoke of them again. That he would openly speak of Hrul’s plague was something he hadn’t done since the war. From the stunned gazes on many people’s faces, she wasn’t alone in her surprise.

But her heart fell as he continued speaking. “I have procured reliable evidence that this was not a natural plague. Rather, this was an experiment by the Orion Alliance, to test a new strain of virus for biological warfare.” He paused to let his words sink in. Worried and bewildered glances were shared between the nobles. Antasia could almost hear their thoughts, for they were much her own: Could this be true? Could the Alliance do such a thing? If so, what does this mean for us?

Her father slammed his fist on the table, causing the china to shake and everyone to look on him once again. “This is a clear act of war! To perform such a blatant attack on our people, when already their sanctions drain our economy, our resources? I will not sit still for this! I will not!”

More than a few nobles were nodding along with him, but many had more sense and seemed worried. Antasia was as concerned; if her father declared war, it would likely collapse their economy more than the sanctions ever could. With Hrul in the middle of a crisis and food shortages across the planet, Lorogos would never last in such a conflict. And against the Alliance? One of the most powerful polities in the galaxy? Surely her father was mad to even imply such a thing!

But, to her sadness, her father’s eyes were as sane as they’d ever been. And her mother looked at him with pride, nodding along with everything he was saying. Frehlia seemed even more withdrawn than she’d been several minutes before. It wouldn’t be long before she disassociated herself from the universe entirely, and would need to be carried back to her quarters. In a way, Antasia envied her.

“I have spoken to my advisers, and they all agree,” the king continued. “Blood for blood. We cannot allow the Alliance to get away with this. They’ve run roughshod over us enough for the past eighteen years. They’ve been eyeing our world greedily for generations, wanting to assimilate us into their Pact.” He spat the word like poison, glaring at no one and everyone. “That is why I am issuing the Call to Arms.” Silence fell over the hall. Antasia glanced at them only for a moment before staring wide-eyed at her father. Dread clawed at her heart. The Call to Arms was the prelude to the Declaration of Action, which itself was a prelude to the Act of War. All able-bodied men and women were to be conscripted into the Lorogos military, trained, and then sent to battle. The Call had been rarely ever used, for normally the Royal Navy and the Soldiers of Lorogos were enough to protect them, even during the civil war.

She desperately wanted to speak out, to call her father a fool. But she held her tongue. She knew that he would not be forgiving to her anymore than he’d be to a noble who spoke out of turn. Surely this was some nightmare?

“All of you are to call upon your retainers, your peasants and your militias. Tell them of my declaration. Tell them of the crimes. Tell them we will not submit quietly to the Alliance. We will fight for every inch of our solar system! They will not conquer us! They will not!” He seemed to expect applause at that, but nobody said a word. Nodding, he sat back down, returning to his meal. His wife patted him on the arm, then did the same. Frehlia was still staring at the same bean she’d been gazing at for the past two minutes.

And still, not a word was uttered. After all, the state dinner was a formal affair, filled with the sound of the clinking of china.

Seeing as I’ve hit a wall in writing my Heroes oneshots, I’ve taken to writing original works until something happens in the game that sparks my creativity

#writing #original work #original writing #scifi #alien #eve of war

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